


The Assassin

by Mysterious_Wonders20



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Assassination, Assassination Attempt(s), Assassination Plot(s), Assassins & Hitmen, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Dark, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Past, Evil Albus Dumbledore, Evil Voldemort (Harry Potter), Gay Draco Malfoy, Gore, Graphic Description, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Harry Potter is Obsessed with Draco Malfoy, M/M, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Sub Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26133535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysterious_Wonders20/pseuds/Mysterious_Wonders20
Summary: Harry Potter disappeared from the Dursley's at age 5 with no trace of where he went. The wizarding world has been searching for him ever since. The search becomes more desperate as news spreads that the Dark Lord has returned. Will he be found? Where has he been all this time? Will he be able to protect them from the approaching war?Evil Dumbledore. BxB. Gore. Blood. Violence. Sex Scenes.Idea started on: 12/09/2015First published on: 27/08/2020
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 122
Kudos: 414





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment your thoughts as I need validation <3 Also WARNING: I did not hold back in my research and my description so please don't read if you have a weak stomach!
> 
> EDITED: I made a small edit to chapter 1. I adjusted Harry's age from 17 down to 16.

** The Assassin **

**Chapter 1**

A young, slender man ran through the dark streets. His long, leather cloak flickering behind him and his black boots splashing on the drenched pavement. He quickly came to a stop outside a two storey house and swiftly got his breathing under control. The young man stood there until he could no longer hear his breathing but just the pitter patter of the rain and the rustling of the trees against each other.

The young man observed the house. Eyeing the backyard, he made a decision to climb the tree that would give him a good view of inside the house. He swiftly made his way up as if he weighed nothing. Crouching in the branch, concealed by the leaves and his black attire, the young man scoured the house for any sign of life.

About half an hour passed, the young man had not moved an inch and his patience was about to pay off. A car pulled into the dark driveway. Seconds later a man got out and went inside, turning on all the lights as he made his way into the kitchen. The young man stiffened in his position, watching every single move through the kitchen windows.

He had been studying this man's routine for two weeks straight. He knew every move. Every detail about his life. This man's name was Kevin Owens, he was single, lived alone, worked from 9am to 6pm every day a part from Sundays, and every night he would have a cigarette before popping in a microwave meal.

The young man smirked as he saw Kevin grab a cigarette from his bag before he headed outside to the back yard. This is his chance to strike. The man made his way into the middle of his yard, where he proceeded to light the cigarette and stare at the moon. Perfect.

The young man slid silently down the tree, crouching low to the ground like a lion hunting it's prey. He stalked forwards silently until he stood directly behind his victim. Keeping his eyes on the back of Kevin's head, the other young man reached down to his calf slowly and pulled a Blackhawk Tatang knife out of its sheath. The knife's black material didn't shine in the moonlight so it gave no clue it was there as the young man brought the knife around to Kevin's throat, hovering near, but not touching his skin. The young man brought his other spare hand around the other side, ready to cover Kevin's mouth.

Kevin drew another long draw from his cigarette. As he exhaled it slowly up towards the moon, the young man quickly stabbed into the right side of his throat where the right carotid artery lay beneath the skin and covered his mouth firmly. Blood splattered over the grass as gurgling sounds came from the distressed man. The young man held Kevin firmly in place as he quickly pushed the knife further into the neck, cutting the vocal cords. The young man brought the blood ridden knife out with a grunt before he plunged it into the left side to get to the left carotid artery. Satisfied that both major blood vessels and vocal cords had been severed, the young man pinched Kevin's nose with the hand covering his mouth and begun to count the seconds that passed that Kevin was not able to breathe. Slowly Kevin begun to stop struggling in the hold and slipped into unconsciousness.

The young man quickly placed his knife back into its sheath before slowly dropping Kevin, face first, to the ground. The young man sighed before stepping away from the corpse. Another night, another death, another job done. The young man apparated from the spot, to arrive on the top of the roof. Crouching down to be hidden from view, the young man held his hands up towards the yard and corpse below him. He concentrated on summoning his magic up. After a second of silence, the young man cleaned any of his DNA from Kevin, as well as the surrounding area, so there was to be no trace of him every being there. The young man removed all footprints of his from the grass so they could not track a shoes size and make. The young man finally removed his magical residual from the immediate area. He didn't want anything left behind that could possibly lead anyone to him, not even the best trackers or hunters would be able to find him.

Instead of apparating again, the young man ran along the rooftop in a crouch. If he had apparated from that spot, it would leave behind his residual magic, which could trace to him. Instead he fled the crime scene by foot. Choosing to jump from rooftop to rooftop until he was far enough away to use some magic. The young man pulled out a small box and within it held a miniature broom. As soon as the young man pulled the miniature broom out, it grew to its normal size. The nimbus 2000 reflected the moonlight off its polished wood, it's twigs neat and straight. The young man climbed on the broom and performed a quick Disillusionment Charm upon himself, both wandlessly and wordlessly. 

After a quick 15 minute journey, the young man landed on the ground. He looked up at the only house in sight, a massive old barn styled house with fields of green grass surrounding it. A track had been engraved into the grass from the many cars that had driven towards the house. The track lead off into the distance of the tree line. The house was in the middle of a very large clearing, secluded from any human life. The young man placed the Nimbus back into his box as he walked up to the house. Opening the door quietly, the young man quickly observed the amount of people within the living room and walked in. The door automatically closing as soon as his hand left the door handle. 

"Success?" a young male asked from his place on the couch, looking at the young man.

"Of course," the young man replied, taking his cloak off. "Would you expect anything else from me?"

"No you are right," the other male chuckled, standing up and heading towards him. "Merlin help the day Harry Potter doesn't successfully kill a target," the young male said sarcastically says as he shakes Harry Potter's hand in congratulations.

"And your mission?" Harry asked with an evil smirk on his face.

"Hunt for food," the other man sighed, heading back to the couch while Harry stayed where he was. "They still want me to do more training."

"Your day will come Gray," Harry said as he headed towards the stairs. "Patience is key."

"Easier said than done," Grayson yelled up at Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes as he finished going up the two flights of stairs. He made his way into one of four doors on this level. After softly shutting the door behind him, he sighed. Harry walked over to his wardrobe, shrugged off his leather coat and placed it inside with five other identical looking leather cloaks. Revealed from under the cloak was four different weapon holsters on his body. One was for his wand on his right forearm, two small knife holsters on each of his biceps, and lastly his larger holster on his calf for his Blackhawk Tatang knife. He opened the middle draw in the wardrobe and placed the two small knives into their rightful spots. Harry then unclipped his two arm holster, opened the top draw and neatly placed them inside. 

Harry sighed again as he walked into his private bathroom. He pulled the knife out of its sheath that was wrapped around his calf while turning the sink's hot water tap on with his other hand. He slowly ran the knife under the water, watching in satisfaction as the ruby red blood dripped and mixed in with the water. 

Harry grabbed the Accelerated Hydrogen Peroxide Disinfectant spray bottle from under the sink as well as some paper towel. He turned off the tap and quickly wiped down the wet blade with a sheet of paper towel. Harry then sprayed a decent amount of the disinfectant on the knife to kill any bacteria, viruses, blood-borne pathogens or any other nasty cells that could cause harm if he was to accidentally cut himself or someone other than his target. Not that it had ever happened before. But he was taught to always prepare for the absolute worst case scenario. 

Satisfied that his favourite knife had been thoroughly cleaned, Harry placed it back in its rightful place in his calf holster. He had also been taught to always have a weapon other than his wand on his body. Harry walked out of his bathroom and sat on his small bed. He took a few seconds to decompress from the mission before he needed to report. He stared in to the free-standing, full length mirror. He noticed there was a splash of crimson blood droplets on his cheek. He wiped it away with a smile before standing. He stared in to his dark green jaded eyes before walking out.

Harry walked up one more flight of stairs and up to one of the two doors. He knocked loud enough for the occupant to hear, before taking a step back and waiting with his hands behind his back. The door opened silently to reveal a man sitting behind a desk, head buried in paperwork. He entered the dimly lit room, closing the door behind him for privacy. Harry just stood in front of the desk silently as he waited for the other to finish his current task.

"Harry," a thick Scottish accent rolling out as the older male smiled warmly up at him. "Take a seat for Merlin's sake."

"Yes Sir," Harry immediately responded and sat on the chair to his right.

"Report?" the other said after finally putting down his pen, clasping his hands together and looking up at Harry with a serious expression.

"Successful mission," stated Harry, his face emotionless. "Target was sighted at 6:21pm, killed at 6:29pm. No neighbours were alerted to my presence, there was no witnesses, no evidence nor magical trace left behind. The target has yet to be found dead, so no Police or Auror reports."

"Well done," the man smiled darkly. "Don't spend it all at once."

With that, the other pulled out a small bag of cash and placed it on the desk. 

"Thank you Sir," Harry smiled as he grabbed the small bag and pocketed it.

Neither made a move to leave, both staring at each other with fondness.

"Now the business is over with, drop the formalities Harry," he chuckled, leaning forwards in his chair. "How are you going?"

"I am fine Drew," Harry sighed as he rolled his eyes. 

Drew would always ask that question at any opportunity he had. It made Harry's heart warm to know he had someone that cared for him so deeply, no matter who he was. He was so lucky to have Drew in his life. He was the closest thing he had to a family as well as a father figure. 

"You're 16th birthday is coming up in a few weeks," Drew smiled warmly. "What would you like?"

"Nothing," Harry shook his head with a smirk.

"How about that 12 piece set of Black Kunai Throwing Knives you've had your eyes on?" mused Drew. "They are 6 inches long, comes with a two small and compact leg sheaths, and I'm sure if I mention my name then I can get a new bullseye target."

Harry couldn't help the genuine laugh that bubbled up. He shook his head in disbelief. This man always knew what he wanted without him even needing to say a word. Harry didn't know how he did it.

"Drew," Harry said after calming down. "I don't want it. Having the roof over my head and money in my pocket is more than enough."

"Potter," Drew said sternly, he rarely used that tone.

"McIntyre," Harry said just as sternly. 

"Potter stop," Drew shook his head with a chuckle, he couldn't keep up the stern facade when the younger said his surname. "I'm getting you that set whether you like it or not."

"Drew McIntyre does whatever he wants," Harry smirked holding up his hands in defence. "I can't stop you."

"Get out of here before I change my mind you little mutt," laughed Drew as he picked his pen back up and got back to the paperwork in front of him.

"Later," Harry said as he left the office and headed back down to his room. 

After collapsing on his bed with a sigh, Harry allowed the sound of the rain to soothe his tense body. He hated being reminded of his birthday or his past. Before Drew had found him that faithful night almost eleven years ago, he had lived with a despicable family, the Dursley's. Just thinking about them made him tense back up and a snarl to rise from deep within him. Harry closed his eyes and listened to the rain again. He started to think back on the night he was found.

_It was a cold winter night in the small town of Surrey. Most residents were in their homes, snuggled up near their fireplace or heater. The streets were eerily quiet and mysteriously clouded in an abnormal darkness. If anyone was to walk down the alley off the main street of shops, they would come across a small, shaking boy all alone and crying. Fortunately for that young boy, a group was chasing someone in to that exact alley way._

_"It's a dead end," the leader of the group chuckled as he stood at the end of the alley way with five other men behind him. Lifting his hand up, a blue light shot up and encircled the person the group were chasing._

_The small boy gasped quietly as he saw the light come from his hand. He watched on, half in curiosity and half in fear._

_"Wait," the out of breath male tried to get out of the strange blue circle. "Please. I didn't do anything."_

_The leader of the group chuckled, stepping forward in to the alley way while his accomplices stayed behind._

_"No?" the man chuckle grew darker as did his features. Suddenly there was nothing that was amusing to the man. "NO? You didn't do anything? Are you lying to yourself to make things easier?"_

_"I-I'm not lying!" the man cried out in panic. "I didn't do anything. I swear! P-Please don't kill me!"_

_The young boy on the ground shuffled forward slightly from where he crouched behind a pile of garbage bags, trying to see more of the scene that was unfolding in front of him._

_"Well answer me this," the leader growled out darkly. "Who was the one to compromise our position? Who was the one who was a double agent? Who was the one that fed information to the enemy? Huh? Who was it then?"_

_The man in the circle begun searching the alley way for any excuse, any way to escape._

_"Please don't kill me," he begged again._

_"You're pathetic," the other spat at the ground before slowly raising his hand again. "You deserve this you filthy piece of shit."_

_"Wait!" the man cried out, his eyes locked on the little form of the boy. "Is that a child?"_

_The leader snorted before his face turned serious as his eyes were drawn to the shaking frame of what appeared to be a young child. He slowly approached the young boy and crouched down in front of him._

_"What are you doing out here young one?" he asked in a soothing tone the boy hadn't heard from anyone before. "Are you cold?"_

_The young boy nodded his head shyly, avoiding eye contact with the stranger. He looked at the chest as the other started to take his coat off. He gently placed the large, warm coat around the small frame, frowning as the young boy flinched at being touched._

_"Where is your home?" he asked, forgetting about the traitor behind him for now. "Are your parents not worried?"_

_"They are dead," the young boy whispered quietly._

_"Who do you live with?" he pressed on. Surely this young boy had a place he lived at?_

_"Aunt, Uncle, Dudley," the boy whispered out, shaking as he said those names out loud._

_"Why don't I take you back to your Aunt and Uncle?" he asked, but almost instantly regretted asking._

_"NO!" the young boy shouted, wide green eyes finally meeting concerned dark brown eyes. "P-P-Please don't take me back."_

_"It's okay," the man tried to soothe the almost tearful young one. He turned around to his group. "Take the traitor back to base. I'll be home soon."_

_The young boy watched in fear as the group of five men quickly stalked forwards and grabbed on to the one in the blue circle. With a loud pop they were gone. The young boy stared around in curiosity and amazement. He was wondering where they had gone so quickly when a niggling feeling popped in to his head._

_"Are you freaks too?" the young boy whispered, refusing to look any higher than the others chest again._

_"Freaks?" the man whispered to himself. "What do you mean by_ Freaks? _"_

_"Aunt and Uncle say freaks like me use the M word," he whispered out, looking around to make sure it was safe to say. He leaned in slightly and in a barely audible whisper he uttered, "Magic."_

_"Young one," the man sighed and shook his head, disbelief in what he was hearing. "You are not a freak if you can use magic. I am not a freak for using magic. No one is."_

_"B-But they say so," the boy whispered, shaking uncontrollably from the cold air despite the coat. "They always tell the truth. They say freaks like me should have died in the car crash with my parents. Freaks aren't good."_

_"What's your name young one?" the man asked, not wanting to take him back to this so called Aunt and Uncle._

_"Most of the time I am Freak," he whispered. "But sometimes I am Harry."_

_"Well sometimes Harry," the man smiled warmly as the younger's face lit up in joy for a few seconds. "How would you like to come to my home and get out of this cold for the night?"_

_"Do I have to cook and clean for you as well?" Harry asked._

_"No," the man smiled sadly at the young one. "You don't need to do anything."_

_"O-Okay, if you are sure," Harry said shyly, looking up in to the kind eyes._

_"I am Drew," Drew held his hand out for Harry to take. "Nice to meet you Harry."_

_Harry shook Drew's hand quickly before withdrawing his own back, afraid of being tricked. Drew stood up and quickly stretched his acing legs._

_"Take hold of my hand and don't let go," Drew held his hand out as Harry stood up and stepped closer to him. "This might feel funny but it is only for a few seconds."_

_Harry apprehensively slipped his tiny, shaking hand in to Drew's large one. He closed his eyes to muster up some courage. As he did, he felt a warmness wrap around his entire body before a sensation of being squeezed through a tight tube happened for a few seconds. As soon as the feeling disappeared, he opened one eye to find himself standing in a living room he had never seen before. Harry looked up to Drew, eyes wide with shock and amazement._

_"Welcome to my place," Drew smiled down at Harry before he knelt down and carefully took his coat off him so he didn't overheat._

_"How did you do that?" Harry's voice quivered slightly in awe, as he took in his surroundings thoroughly._

_"It's called apparation," Drew explained, hanging his coat on a rack beside the door. "It's when a wizard or witch magically go from one place to another."_

_"Like teleportation?" Harry asked._

_"That's a big word, Harry," Drew chuckled as he knelt down again. "Where did you learn that from?"_

_"I was bad boy and read a book," Harry hung his head in shame._

_"Why are you a bad boy for reading?" Drew asked in confusion._

_"Freaks shouldn't touch what isn't theirs," Harry whispered. "Uncle got mad one time he found me with one of Aunt's books."_

_"Harry," Drew sighed, reaching out and softly grabbing his shoulder. Frowning as the young one flinched from the touch but nonetheless stayed still. "You are not a freak. And if you wish to read a book here, you can."_

_"Thank you sir," Harry smiled shyly, avoiding eye contact._

_"Call me Drew," he responded immediately as he stood up. "Now would you like me to show you around and introduce you to people that live here?"_

_"Can you show me the cupboard first?" Harry asked sheepishly._

_"The cupboard?" Drew asked confused. "Why would you want to see my cupboard?"_

_"Cupboard under the stairs is my bedroom," Harry stated proudly, his chest puffing slightly._

_"No Harry," Drew sighed. "You cannot stay in a cupboard."_

_Harry looked up in shock. Tears forming in his eyes slightly. Drew knelt down for what felt like the fourth hundred time that day._

_"You can stay in a bedroom like any normal child would," Drew said to stop the young one from thinking he couldn't stay there._

_"A bedroom?" Harry asked, his head tilting slightly. "A bedroom like Dudley has? Or Aunt and Uncle have?"_

_"Yes," Drew smiled sadly. "How about I show you the bedroom first?"_

_Harry nodded his head eagerly and followed Drew up the two flights of stairs. His eyes travelling all around the place to observe the new environment. Harry could have sworn that a portrait he passed moved. Drew opened up one of the four doors on the third floor. Harry gasped as he looked around the bedroom._

Harry smiled as he opened his eyes and looked around the room. Nothing much had changed except for a few new pieces of furniture and a personal item here and there. The bedroom was very much as dull as the day he first saw it, which Harry didn't mind as it was more than he ever owned at the Dursley's nearly for the first five years of his life. Harry settled in for the night, blissfully unaware of the panic happening miles away from him in the Headmasters office at Hogwarts.

**> _< >_< >_<**

The room was full. Full of people, full of emotions, full of magic. An old wizard sat behind the desk pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to focus on anything but the talk of the other order members in attendance. 

"Silence," Headmaster Dumbledore said quietly, no one hearing the word leave his mouth.

The old wizard lifted his head slowly from his hands, dangerous blue eyes flashing with fury. He inhaled slowly, trying to keep his cool as much as he could. He looked around the room slowly to find not even a single pair of eyes was on him.

"I said," he said a little loudly before bellowing, "Silence!"

And silence is what he got. Everyone froze as the usual calm and cheery Headmaster of Hogwarts yelled with a vicious undertone. Those closer even felt the powerful flick of his magic, his anger lashing out of him in waves.

"I did not call this meeting for meaningless chitter chatter," he growled out with barely contained anger. "I called this meeting in hopes of hearing some news on our current situation. Time is of the essence. You all know as well as I how important it is to find the boy."

No one dare speak another word in fear of the magic or dark eyes being drawn to them. The grey haired wizard scanned the room as he adjusted himself in his chair to sit up straighter.

"Fletcher," sharp blue eyes scouted out the man. "Report."

"There has been an increased activity of crime in both the muggle and wizarding world," the short and unshaven man said, stepping forward slightly. "I have been sighting a lot of murder cases where the cause of death is known, however the perpetrator is unknown. When Aurors have investigated, no magical trace can be found anywhere in the immediate area. That also includes some of the muggle cases they look into."

"Any idea of who or what is at the cause of all of this?" Dumbledore asked with a massive sigh.

"No Sir," whispered Fletcher, eyes cast down. "There is no evidence, no magical trace, nothing. My best guess is that we are dealing with extremely powerful wizards or assassins."

The Headmaster closed his eyes, trying to make any sense of this. He sighed before dismissing the ginger man with a lazy wave of his hand. His eyes looking for his next target.

"Shacklebolt," he almost barked. "Any progress?"

"Nothing more than where we were three years ago," the tall man said immediately. 

"How do we know he is even alive?" a small voice asked from the back of the room.

Everyone turned their heads to see Molly Weasley with tears in her eyes, clutching her husband’s arm. While no one ever voiced this opinion in front of the Headmaster, they were all thinking it every time their searches turned out fruitless. 

"We must have hope, Molly," Dumbledore said softly. "If we lose the only hope we have, we will never find him in time."

"Three years have passed Albus," she whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. "Three years of nothing. Yet there was no guarantee that was him three years ago. It was a possible sighting from a person we cannot trust. There was no solid evidence it was him!" 

"Molly," he said with a sigh, standing up and making his way around to the front of his desk. "Any sighting is good news, whether it is true or not. It gives us the hope he is still out there."

"How have we not found him yet?" she asked as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"I wish I could tell you why," he hung his head. "But we need to keep up our efforts. We need to find him and train him urgently. Harry Potter is our only hope."

Everyone nodded their heads in the solemn silence. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, arranging a few pieces of parchment. 

"Alright so we will meet back here in a month to discuss things," he said, looking around the room. "Fletcher, same as always. Keep an eye on crime reports in both worlds. Shacklebolt, watch any information within the ministry and any possible reports of Harry Potter."

"Yes Sir," Fletcher and Shacklebolt muttered at the same time.

Dumbledore waved his hand to dismiss everyone from the Order of the Phoenix meeting. Slowly, the people trickled out and soon enough it was just the Headmaster alone in his office. Making sure the door was locked, Dumbledore let off a little burst of magic. Items fell, furniture shook, the windows rumbling. He hit the desk with his fist, blue eyes dangerously glaring holes in to the door in front. 

The brat had been missing for almost eleven years. No one knew he was missing until Arabella Fig had failed to sight him for almost two years. That stupid squib. She had one task. After the order members had searched for months, panic started to set in. No magical trace had ever been picked up since he disappeared. When the public found out he was missing, they went in to panic mode as well. Yet their many searches had resulted in empty hands. After five years of nothing, everything started to die down. No more searches, no more money towards the cause, no more shits given.

Dumbledore stood up as he walked towards his window that overlooked the grounds of Hogwarts. The small lights off in the distances from Hogsmeade illuminating the dark night. A deep growl left his throat, magic flaring again. He would find that brat if it was the last thing he would ever do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The sun was close to setting in the town of Little Wellington in Surrey. While most of the occupants of the small town had gone home and begun to unwind for the evening, in one particular house on Privet Drive, a family of three had just begun to start their rather loud and disruptive nightly routine. Unaware of their obnoxious actions, the obese father and son duo walked out of the house and to the shiny sports car in the driveway.

Harry Potter sat perched on the rooftop directing across from his disgusting family’s house. He was hidden from their view by the chimney, never once being caught in all of the years he had spied on them. Even after all this time, anger and resentment heavily weighed on him as he watched them from afar. Harry had studied their routine for years. But never had he carried out any sort of revenge like he would desperately hope for when he was younger. 

“Here you are my dear boy,” Vernon Dursley’s obnoxiously loud voice boomed throughout the whole neighbourhood. “Take us for a drive. You’ve earnt it.”

Scoffing and rolling his eyes, Harry watched as his uncle handed the keys to his cousin. After all this time, that kid was still being spoilt as if he was the prophet boy that was destined to save the entirety of the planet. Not only last week had the whale of a boy spat a tantrum in the middle of Privet Drive when his father had not allowed him to drive. Harry smirked as he thought back to a red faced Petunia Dursley rushing out to resolve the conflict.

Earnt it his arse. The fat pig had never done a productive thing in his life, let alone be a good student. Harry had done his research on them all. He had seen the school report cards, the complaints from neighbours, the police reports on Dudley, the client claims of disrespect or mishandling from Vernon’s business. This family was probably the most hated one in town. Which made Harry very happy indeed.

The detestably loud rumbling brought Harry out of his thoughts while it also filled the previously peaceful surrounding streets. Harry chuckled darkly as he watched multiple neighbours angrily storm up to their open windows, glaring in the direction of the offending car before almost simultaneously closing them. Never before had he witnessed such a collective dislike for one family in his life as right now in this small town of Little Wellington.

The front lawn was slightly torn up as the vehicle reversed as fast as an airplane. Smoke begun floating up from the back tires as the young drive held the car stationary in the middle of the street and spun the tires. After a headache inducing minute of a continuous burnout, the car roared off down the street, barely missing a street lamp and mailbox on its way.

“Typical,” scoffed Harry as he turned his attention back towards the now quiet house.

By now Petunia Dursley would have almost finished cooking the large sized dinner for her family. As the two boofheads normally leave the house for a joy ride, she sets the table and sits down on the couch to watch whatever program her heart desires. Harry has stalked their house enough times to observe how controlling Vernon is over every aspect of his wife’s life. He has witnessed the physical, mental and emotional abuse many a time. In a way, he almost empathised with his maternal Aunt. Yet a part of him can never forget what she did to him.

The sun had almost completely set, casting the town in darkness. It was now a little safer for Harry to move positions and not become compromised. He slowly came out from behind the chimney, sitting in front of it now. Just as he settled in, Petunia entered the living room with an exhausted expression on her face and collapsing haphazardly. He watched as she didn’t even bother to change the channel, instead choosing to close her eyes and rest her head back. 

“Harry,” his body not flinching at all, Harry turned his head to the side and smiled as he saw the white, glowing figure of a patronus. “New mission. Come back immediately.”

The transparent and clearly defined unicorn dispersed in to thin air, the deep echo of Drew’s voice lingered in the air. Work never stopped for the field in which Harry worked. Wanting nothing more to distract him from his new possible mission, Harry quick cleared pulled out the small box from his pocket, picking up the shrunken wooden broom. Unlike last time, he did not cast any spell on himself. One thing he had learnt from all of the years he had spied on the Dursley’s was to never perform any sort of magic near their house. Dumbledore had set up a spell to trigger an alert if Harry’s magical signature was detected in the immediate area.

**> _< >_< >_<**

Knocking quickly three times on the door, Harry waited for the grunt of acknowledgement before he entered Drew’s office. He opened the door to find a rare sight inside. Papers were scattered haphazardly on his desk as well as piling up on the two chairs meant for guests. Harry frowned as he saw Drew pacing back and forwards, hair messy, clothes untidy. The man looked like a mess.

“Sir,” Harry cautiously approached him as if not to spook the other with his presence. “You needed me?”

Drew turned to Harry slowly, his dark brown eyes holding all of the emotions the quiet man was experiencing. The older wizard conjured two chairs from books that lay nearby. He gestured for Harry to sit as he, himself lowered his tired looking body down.

“As you know, I sent Parker out on a mission to track down the diary a few days ago,” Drew begun slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He has yet to return. I may need to send you out for a rescue.”

“Yes Sir,” Harry nodded, concerned for the slightly older, missing man. They were rarely sent on rescue missions. And when they were, it was more so to retrieve the fallen bodies. “Exact location?”

“Unknown,” he sighed. “I sent him on a mission to find the diary. I believe the last known location was Wiltshire, England. And as we know, a known follower of the Dark Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy, has a property there. Begin your investigation there and work your way around any possible locations until he is found. I want a report by midnight otherwise I will come hunting for you.”

Harry nodded before swiftly standing up. He left the room without another word and headed downstairs to his room. Closing his door, he conducted a quick check over himself and his weaponry to make sure nothing was out of place or damaged. He chuckled at himself as he realised he almost forgot something. So wasting no time, he grabbed the only missing weapons from his body; his two bicep knives and holsters. After he quickly attached them to their correct place and adjusted his leather cloak to hide all his weaponry, he walked out of his room.

Walking over to the room directly opposite his, Harry entered Parker’s bedroom. He looked around for a small object that he could take with him to help track down the missing man. His eyes were drawn to pocket knife sitting on his desk. Harry bent down to inspect it, finding much to his delight, that it was indeed covered in useable fingerprints. Grabbing a tissue, he picked the pocketknife up and wrapped it carefully to preserve the prints. He placed it in his pocket before he apparated to Wiltshire without moving from his spot.

Landing in a quiet, dark alleyway, Harry took a second to observe his surrounds. The street appeared mostly empty. Nearby restaurants and stores had barely any customers. He could feel no magical aura in the immediate proximity. Harry pulled out the pocketknife carefully. He held it delicately in the palm of his hand while removing the tissue to reveal the object. Looking around once more, he quickly casted a non-verbal Disillusionment Charm over himself and the object. Although he blended in with the environment around him, if anyone was to concentrated on his spot then they could easily find him. Keeping that in mind, he flicked out his wand from his holster to prepare the tracking charm. 

“Avenseguim,” he whispered, moving his wand in the required motion.

The pocketknife vibrated in his hand for a second before lifting a few inches in to the air. It begun to float out of the alleyway, Harry following closely behind it to ensure he did not get lost. He carefully walked along the fairly quiet streets, his guard up at all times and wand at the ready. Anytime someone new started walking on the same path, he would spend time observing them, looking out for signs they see him.

After a lengthy walk, the pocketknife had led him to a more secluded part of the town. Along this road were houses that looked to be built in the 18th century, many based in the middle of giant blocks of well-maintained land. This sure did look like the type of area a pure-blooded, rich family would buy and live. And Harry was correct in assuming as the pocketknife begun to slow in it’s travel and turned to what looked like a gravel driveway that led to the middle of an empty paddock.

Watching the pocketknife carefully, it headed towards the gravel driveway only to bounce off an invisible barrier. A dark smirk overtook Harry’s features as he snatched the pocketknife out of the air and cancelled the tracking charm. He took two steps towards the boundary, careful to not get close enough to the point of tripping alarms. He held his hands up while closing his eyes. He studied all of the charms and spells placed over the house in hopes of easily being able to break them.

Tonight seemed to be his lucky night. Whoever warded this house did a poor job, it was almost laughable. Who would have thought that a pure-blooded household didn’t properly ward their home? In his mind, Harry was able to see all of the current occupants in the household. It even included all of the magical and non-magical creatures. The word human appeared behind his close eyes, followed by a list of names: Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Parker Basely. Bingo!

With his eyes still closed, Harry begun to slowly dismantle certain wards, temporarily placing new ones in their place that will benefit his entry and escape. The wards that sounded an alarm when triggered were now gone. So were the wards that prevented apparition and unlawful trespassing. Harry opened his eyes after he was satisfied, finding the beautiful mansion appearing slowly before him.

Taking a deep breath in and scouring the land in front, Harry made a mental plan of the best route. His plan was to stick to the shadows and along the hedges that led up to the magnificent house. He took one step forwards. Feeling the wards shift around him, accepting his presence without triggering alarms. A dark smirk played with the edges of his mouth.

Harry adjusted his long, leather cloak before swiftly walking to the left side of the path. He crouched down behind the very first bush, peaking around it to look for any signs of movement. This mission was going to take time and patience, one wrong move and the game is up. Perhaps that was why Drew choose him. A bubble of proudness engulfed him for a mere second before he squashed it down. He couldn’t let emotions interfere with the task at hand, it was too dangerous.

Slowly, Harry started to stand up from his squat. He studied the house once more to find no signs of movement. Looking around the front yard, he noticed a flock of white peacocks. Mentally shaking his head as he thought of how predictable it was for a rich, pure-blooded family to have fancy animals. Confident there was no one around, Harry dared his first of many careful moves. Darting out from behind the bush, Harry agilely ran towards the house, careful to hug his body as close to the bushes as possible.

Spotting movement out of his peripheral vision he quickly ducked behind the nearest hedge. Harry double checked his Disillusion Charm was still present before turning his head to the right side to locate the source of his problem. About a hundred yards away were a small group both in the air and on the ground, five to be exact as Harry squinted to make out the figures in the dark. They all looked to be around his own age, perhaps these people were Lucius Malfoy’s son and his friends. He sat and watched for a few seconds, observing the two up in the air chasing each other while the others cheered them on.

The group of five seemed to be in their own world and oblivious to the current intruder on their land. Satisfied the threat was nearly non-existent, Harry continued along the path once more at a rather restrained pace. He would rather take forever to get to Parker than rush in and be caught. Merlin would only know how a duel would go down in this household.

Snaking his way between the bushes and the path, Harry kept one eye on the group at all times while the other eye stayed on the house. Once again he crouched down behind a hedge, this time scouting out possible ways to enter the house. He scoured the building, looking for any windows open or any doors that had been left open. Smirking once he realised a window had indeed been left opened on the second storey floor.

Harry looked around the entire vicinity to ensure the coast was clear. He nimbly ran up to the base of the house, standing directly under the window. He lifted his hand up, aiming it just beside the opening.

“Carpe Retractum,” he whispered under his breath.

A long, slim rope shot out from the palm of his hand and attached itself to the wall of the house. Harry stilled, knowing the rope was now visible to anyone. He looked over to the group and silently sighed in relief as they were all occupied. Not wanting to get caught, Harry gripped the rope with both hands, giving it a tug to ensure it was sturdy. He begun to scale the wall as if he weighed nothing. In the short amount of time it took to get to the window, he was neither out of breath or sweating.

Harry peaked inside of the room cautiously to find a spacious bedroom decorated in colours of white, dark grey and green. He rolled his eyes at the glaring obvious Slytherin themed room. Pausing before he fully entered the room to check if there were any charms, spells, jinxs or wards in place. Harry scoffed as he sensed none. This family was either too careless to consider properly warding their home or too cocky to ward their home properly. It was probably the latter. 

Looking around while perched on the side of the building, Harry located the small group over to the right. His eyes widen as he saw all of the lift in to the air on their broomsticks and speedily start to head towards the building, weaving and ducking around each other. Keeping his cool, yet knowing he needed to act fast, Harry pushed off the wall and swung his whole body to the left. He watched as the window got further away before it rapidly came back towards him. Pointing his feet and inclining his body slightly to be more vertical, Harry let go of the rope while at the same time jerking his body forwards.

Harry landed with his right hand out, aiding to stop his body overshooting his land. His left foot and right knee on the ground and the leather cloak wrapping around his body from the sudden halt. He looked back quickly knowing he didn’t have long to get out of the way. Running to the nearest corner to the window, Harry had just enough time to control his slightly elevated breathing before five people flew through the opened window. Stilling his body and calming his breath to nothing, his eyes observed every single inch of movement from the group.

“Dobby!” Harry’s eyes snapped to the right, locating who had just yelled without his body reacting.

A timid, skinny elf appeared in the middle of the room. He was already in a deep bow with his nose touching the ground. Harry looked upon the creature with pity as it shook in its place. While he wasn’t against owning house elves, he was wholly against the abuse they were often subjected to under the ownership of most pure-blooded and some half-blooded families.

“What can Dobby do for little master Draco Malfoy?” the elf squeaked out, not chancing to lift up out of the bow or to look at his master.

All of Draco’s friends started snickering, hiding their laughter behind hands. Harry couldn’t help but smirk. The world was full of little gift wrapped bundles of karma. He watched in amusement as the Malfoy seed clenched his fist tightly around his broom handle and his face promptly turning as red as a tomato.

“Do _not_ call me little,” Draco snarled, taking a threatening step forwards and looming ominously above the shaking elf.

“Dobby is sorry master Draco,” suddenly the elf begun to hit itself in the head repeatedly. “Dobby will make sure to give himself a good punishing.”

Draco smirked as he puffed his chest proudly, looking down at the elf with revulsion burning in his eyes. Throwing his broom carelessly on his massive bed and gesturing his head to the side, his friends followed his actions. While none of them could see him, they sure could sense him. The hairs on their arms and back of necks all stood up as a powerful, yet subtle wave of magic washed over them. Harry was shaking in anger at the mistreatment he had just witnessed.

“Be a good house elf and take all of these brooms to the shed for me,” Draco said with a silent shudder as he began walking towards his closed bedroom door. “Then prepare my friends and I a snack.”

“Yes master Draco, right away Dobby will do that,” the elf stammered out before clicking his fingers, Dobby and the brooms disappeared within an instant.

With a smirk on his face, Draco walked out of the room and loudly talked as they made their way down the nearest staircase. Hoping the coast was clear, Harry skilfully tippytoed over to the doorway. Poking his head around the frame and looking left then right, he silently sighed in relief as the hallway was empty.

Harry crept out of the room and stuck as close to the wall as he could. He headed in the direction of the staircase where all of the noise was coming from downstairs. Checking all directions, he made his move across the hallway and paused against the wall to ensure he was still clear. He poked his head around the corner, yet there was no one in sight.

Carefully and taking his time, Harry begun his decent. His eyes flickering everywhere to observe all of the surroundings. His ears on high alert, taking in all of the new sounds and processing them quickly. His body moving purposefully in a way that would ensure his presence would be kept a secret.

Just as Harry had reached the last step on the staircase, he detected small movement out of his peripheral vision as well as hearing approaching footsteps. Stilling in place, not even moving his head, he watched as a tall, lanky man walked briskly out of the hallway beside the staircase.

This was obviously Lucius Malfoy, no doubt in his mind. The older man had long silvery-blonde hair that reached passed his waist. He carried a cane with him, not that he needed the assistance, but rather needed to intimidate others. He dressed in a fancy silver and green robe that swished out behind him as he walked.

Harry’s eyes followed every movement of Lucius’s. His breathing almost inaudible as he watched the man turn to walk up the stairs, walking right passed him without knowing he was there. Lucius got so close to Harry that if he had gone more to his right while ascending the stairs then their shoulder’s would have brushed.

Only after the older man had entered one of the rooms upstairs did Harry dare to move or breathe. Taking the last step, he was safely on the ground floor. He cautiously walked over to the nearest wall and stilled his movements as he saw the room where Draco and his friends were hanging out in. He needed to be careful with his next few moves. Too much movement or too suddenly, then he would most likely be caught out by them.

Now his next problem was trying to locate where Parker would be. Knowing the history of pure-bloods, it wouldn’t be an uncommon occurrence to have a cellar big enough to detain a few prisoners. Thinking for a few seconds on the best solution, he knew he would have to risk a small chance of being caught. He would need to use a version of the revealing charm.

“Homenum Revelio,” Harry whispered under his breath, fingers crossed that this wouldn’t end in disaster.

Harry eyes were glued to the small group in the room across the hallway. He watched as the spell draw red crosses above each of their heads that was only visible to himself. His eyes were drawn to his far left where a marker had appeared on the floor, signifying the presence of a human underground. Smirking in relief, Harry took a step to his left, edging closer to the marker.

Draco turned his head, looking around the room. Harry held his breath and stilled all movement, hoping this moment would pass by smoothly. Draco scanned every inch of the room he was in before briefly looking out in to the hallway.

“Is something wrong Draco?” a female voice asked, presumably Pansy.

“Thought I felt something,” Draco shrugged as he turned his head away from the hallway. “I’m sure it was nothing.”

“Could be that house elf of yourself playing tricks,” a deep voice said, Harry didn’t know who it belonged to.

“Nonsense,” Draco chuckled, relaxing back in to the couch. “They wouldn’t dare try such a thing.”

The group laughed, all chance of being caught gone for now. Harry kept his eyes trained on the group while warily taking steps to his left and back against the wall.

“So is he back?” a voice asked.

“Who?” Draco responded.

Harry frowned as he continued to slowly make his way towards the still invisible marker.

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” a different voice asked.

Freezing in place, Harry watched the group. The three males were leaning in towards Draco, eager to hear the answer. While Pansy and Draco just smirked and sat back.

“You know we can’t say,” Draco boasted. “But if you promise not to tell anyone.”

“We promise,” all three boys immediately said.

“Yes,” Pansy and Draco said at the same time.

“But we can’t talk about it here,” Pansy continued. “Wait until we are upstairs.”

Shock flew through Harry’s system as he processed the information. Concentrating on the task at hand by pushing that information to the back of his mind, he finally stood near the mark and looked around at all of the possible doors that could lead underground to the cellar. Deciding to not risk opening each of the five nearest doors, Harry pulled out his wand and the pocket knife again.

“Avenseguim,” he whispered and repeated the same wand movement as before.

Once again, the pocket knife vibrated in his hand for a second before lifting in to the air. Harry watched as it travelled across the hallway and to the left, heading towards the second nearest door on that side. He was grateful to notice how close the door seemed to be the front door. Looking around the hallway, he followed the pocket knife carefully, a little nervous to have his back to the room where the small group currently were.

The pocket knife bounced off of the door, creating a small bang. Harry winced as he snatched it out of the air, cancelling the spell silently, wrapping it up again and pocketing it. He quickly turned his back against the wall and looked down the hallway just in time to see Draco and one of the others poke their head out of the room. Staying one hundred percent still, Harry’s eyes watched the two look around.

“You heard that too, right?” one of the unknown males said, voice deep but not as deep as the one before.

“Yes,” Draco whispered and squinted slightly as he looked down the hallway beside the staircase.

“You boys are overreacting,” Pansy laughed as she walked out of the room and headed upstairs. “This is an old house. Old houses generally making a lot of noise.”

“Not my house,” he replied as he rolled his eyes and followed her up the staircase.

Harry was still tense and on high alert as the other three males followed their friends upstairs, looking around the surrounding hallways in suspicion for a mere second. Only once he heard the door close from upstairs did he relax a little. Rolling his head to the right, he looked at the door. Surely it couldn’t be this simple? Frowning, he lifted his right hand and held it close to the wooden frame.

With his eyes closed and breathing slowed, Harry looked for any signs of wards, spells, charms or jinxs. And a few moments later he was glad he checked as behind his closed eyes he saw a nasty jinx for any unauthorised personnel and an alarm that would be triggered. Quickly disabling it, Harry looked around the area before opening the door only slightly. He slipped in passed it and softly shut the door, clouding the room in darkness once more.

“Can’t leave me alone for more than an hour, aye Malfoy?” the thick Ireland accent said from further down the cellar.

“Try again,” Harry chuckled before nonverbally casted a nox charm with his finger.

“Harry?” Parker asked in utter shock. “Harry is that really you?”

“The one and only,” he smirked as he walked down the few steps.

“No don’t come any closer!” he suddenly yelled out.

“Hush or they will hear you,” Harry paused on the last step, spitting out viciously and turning his head towards the door.

“Sorry, but I’d rather not see you caught up in whatever jinx or ward he has in place,” he sighed, shuffling around in the dark.

“Already done. I am not an idiot,” he growled out quietly, stepping towards the cell in which his co-worker and friend was being held in.

Harry cancelled the Disillusion charm as he came to stand in front of the nearest cell, holding his finger higher to cast some light in to the extraordinarily dark room. He saw his friend hunched over in the corner, clothes dirty and beard untamed. The room itself was basically bare and absolutely dirty. 

“Well blimey,” Parker laughed, dragging his aching body towards the metal bars. “If anyone could successfully rescue me, of course it would be you.”

“I haven’t rescued you yet,” he smirked darkly, the light from his finger casting extra shadows over his face.

“Don’t tell me you are going to leave me here to rot, Mr. Potter,” the Irish man feigned hurt as he placed a hand on his chest.

“Me? Leave you here?” he chuckled. “Very likely but today is your lucky day.”

Harry stepped back and held up his left hand. He flicked his wrist and with the tiniest pop, the door to the cell was opened. Harry moved forwards, opening the door, before he dragged Parker’s right arm around his shoulders to help carry his friend out. He silently cast a Disillusionment charm on them both as they begun slowly walking towards the exit.

“Best way to leave would be to go through the front door,” Harry whispered. “It’s the closet exit without apparating.”

“Why can’t we just apparate?” Parker asked as he went up the first step with a grunt.

“Because I want to get the diary after getting you to safety,” he replied as he tried to make it as easy as possible for his friend.

“But that would be a suicide mission,” he stopped walking, looking at Harry as if he had lost his mind. “Look where it got me.”

“I’ll be prepared for a duel if I know where the damn book is located,” he grunted before gently shoving Parker along. “Do you know where it is?”

“Yes,” Parker sighed, knowing it would be a losing battle if he withheld the information from this determined guy. “Downstairs office, first door nearest to the staircase. Bottom drawer on the left side of the desk. It is under a lot of protection, you’ll need to be fast before you make an escape. Be prepared for every charm and jinx in the history of Dark Arts to be thrown at you if you are caught.”

“Not a problem,” Harry smirks as they finally reach the door. “Thank you.”

Staying on the top step, Harry leaned forwards and placed his ear against the door. He stilled his breathing as he listened for any signs of life on the other side. After half a minute, he felt it was safe enough to open the door and begin their slow escape. Within a nod to Parker, Harry slowly turned the door knob, pushed it ajar slightly and peaked his head out to scout the surrounding areas.

“Safe,” Harry whispered, looking at Parker with a soft smile.

Slowly, Harry made his way out of the cellar and helped Parker along the way. He turned around to close the door, making sure to close it without making a sound. When he turned back around, he paused as he spotted movement to the left of them. A woman with long blonde hair, yet not as long as Lucius’, walked down the staircase and in to one of the rooms further down the hallway. Harry sighed in relief as the coast was once again clear.

“That was close,” Parker whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Harry hummed in response as he started walking towards the entry, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. They reached the doors without another hiccup. Looking around and finding the place still empty, Harry opened the door. He paused with it slightly ajar, looking around for any signs of life. He poked his head out and looked up towards the windows where Draco’s room was. But thankfully he couldn’t see anyone. Nodding to Parker, they stepped outside quietly. Harry leaned back to close the door gently, sighing once he successfully did.

“Halfway there,” Parker chuckled.

“Shut up,” Harry whispered. “There an open window up there with five people inside.”

“Well shit, this is going to be fun,” he rolled his eyes.

“It’ll just take a little longer, that’s all,” he said as he guided the both of them towards the hedges.

Unlike coming in, Harry wanted to stay on the grass side of the bushes as it will give more cover from the windows. As they walked to the first one, he kept looking over his shoulder and scanning the windows for any movement. He crouched down, forcing Parker to do the same, just after they got to the first hedge.

“Stay here, do not move,” Harry whispered. “You’ll be safe here until I get back.”

“You’re really doing this?” Parker asked with a shocked look.

“Yes, now stay,” he rolled his eyes and turned around.

Scanning the windows as well as the grounds, Harry felt it was safe enough to go back inside. He ran while staying as low to the ground as possible. Nodding in satisfaction when he reached the door within seconds, knowing it will be an easy run to Parker on his way out. He paused briefly to control his breathing before he opened the door once more. Sticking to the right side of the hallway, Harry made his way along it towards the staircase.

Harry kept every sense he had on high alert, not afraid to stop if there was something that caught his attention. Luck was on his side for now as he successfully made it around the staircase in to the other hallway. First door under the staircase. Harry smirked as he saw that he was standing right next to it. But before he entered it, he decided to check for any nasty hidden surprises. Holding his hand up and closing his eyes, he found nothing in place. How odd.

Looking around, Harry slowly opened the door and entered, closing it immediately behind him. The room was full of all sorts of peculiar items and furnished by dark wooden, luxurious items. He walked around to the other side of the desk, kneeling down in front of the drawers. Harry was just about to touch the desk when he felt a small ball of energy start to form. Maybe the room didn’t have any wards in place, but the desk did.

Once again for the umpteenth time that night, Harry closed his eyes and examined the desk for any harmful measures. Glad he didn’t ignore his intuition, he found a novella sized list of charms, jinxs and wards. With his eyes still closed, he begun to dismantle them all. It would take a while, but the reward outweighs the risk. He would give an arm and a leg to get his hands on a known horcrux.

A few tense minutes went by before he could safely access the contents in the desk. He opened his eyes and reached his hand tentatively forwards to the bottom left drawer. With a shaky breath, his hand touched the smooth wooden handle. A second later, he slowly pulled open the drawer. Harry’s eyes laid upon an old, black diary on top of layers of unused parchment. Success. Harry reached in the drawer and stroked a finger down the smooth yet slightly rough cover.

“Lucius!” a high-pitched, piercing yell from nearby.

Harry whipped his head up to find Narcissa standing at the now opened door. Shit, he needed to get out as soon as possible. While Narcissa couldn’t see who he was, she could now see his outline. Without hesitation, Harry lifted his hand and stunned her. He winced as her stiff body hit the ground. Harry quickly secured the diary in his inner pocket of his cloak before standing up. He walked over to the door and paused as he heard a rushing set of footsteps.

“Narcissa!” Lucius’s voice yelled upon seeing his wife’s body lying on the floor.

Grabbing his wand, Harry attacked instantly, trying to stun the older man instead of harming him. Yet Lucius was ready as the red light raced towards him. Easily able to deflect it, Lucius fired back without hesitation. Going down the nasty root like Parker warned. Lucky for Harry that he has had extensive training in duels and has a comprehensive knowledge of defensive spells and counter charms.

“Reveal yourself coward,” Lucius yelled as he sent a vicious ‘ _Diffindo’_ at him.

Deflecting the cutting charm and sending another _‘Stupify’_ again, Harry swore as he looked all around him for an exit. The only possible one was blocked by Lucius at this current time. Harry tried to throw two different stunning spells at the same time, one from his wand and one from his hand. The older deflected one and ducked out of the way of the other. Before things could get anymore out of hand, Harry needed to get out of there first.

“Fumos,” Harry whispered under his breath, dodging out of the way of a white coloured spell.

Smoke rapidly seeped out of both his hand and wand, filling the room with a grey haze with double the speed. Soon both Lucius and Narcissa were gone from his view, engulfed in the smoke. Praying that the older male didn’t move around too much, Harry drew upon his memory to help him escape. Walking slowly towards the staircase, sticking to the wall, Harry watched in amusement as Lucius casted spell after spell after charm after charm. What the other didn’t know was that by casting these spells, Harry could safely locate him and avoid running in to him while making his escape.

“Little bastard!” yelled Lucius in a fit of rage. “Where are you? Show yourself you little coward!”

It took all of Harry’s will not to laugh or snicker as he successfully made his way out of the smoke filled corridor. He quickly raised his hands and cleared all trace of his magical signature from the entire house. His head whipped up the stairs as he heard people walking down them, only to find Draco and his four friends storming down. Without any more hesitation, Harry ran for the entry, not even looking back as he heard a shout. Harry slammed open the front door and ran directly to Parker.

“I’m guessing that things didn’t go well?” Parker yelled as he saw Harry making a mad dash for him.

Harry didn’t have the time to react as a red spell whizzed over his head. Running lower to the ground, he dived towards Parker, crashing in to him roughly. But before either hit the ground, Harry apparated the two of them out of there, not wanting to chance getting hit by anything else. Harry had apparated them to the outside boundary of the house, out of sight from the occupants of the house.

Parker and Harry watched as Lucius, Narcissa, Draco and his friends all came outside and begun to search the area. Harry closed his eyes and removed his magical trace from the spot he had just apparated from. This took a lot of energy out of him, he rarely erases the magical trace from this far of a distance.

Without saying a word, Parker wrapped both of his arms around Harry’s tired looking body before apparating them both to safety. The two landed in the middle of the lounge room where there just happened to be half of the house. Everyone gasped as they saw the two tangled up in one another. Harry groaned out as he tried to get out of this mess.

“Harry,” Parker breathed out, in pain. “As much as I appreciate being rescued, I don’t swing your way mate.”

“Shut up,” Harry barked out, untangling his limbs and clothing from the other. He was in no mood for jokes.

While the rest of the group begun to laugh, Harry stormed his way up the stairs and directly to Drew’s office. That was the last thing he needed after the way the mission had gone.

“I’m okay that you swing that way,” Parker yelled up to him. “Just don’t take it personal.”

“Parker, shut up,” he yelled and sent a wave of his raw magic down to the group.

Harry tried to calm his nerves down before he reached the third floor, which wasn’t an easy task. He stood outside the closed door for a second and breathed in deeply. Knocking three times, he waited for permission to enter. The door opened and Harry saw a worried looking Drew standing right in front of him.

“Come in, Harry,” the thick, Scottish accent calmed Harry instantly. “Report?”

“Successfully rescued, alive and mostly unharmed,” Harry said as he stepped in and closed the door. “Also successfully retrieved the diary.”

“You or Parker?” Drew sat behind his desk with a shocked expression.

“I did,” Harry stood behind the two chairs as per usual, taking on a comfortable yet powerful stance.

Drew nodded his head slowly, processing the information. He watched with intrigued eyes as Harry reached in to his cloak and pulled out the well preserved diary. Once the item was placed on the desk, he leaned forwards and studied it from a safe distance.

“How did the mission go?” he asked while flipping open the cover to reveal blank parchment.

“Relatively well,” Harry hesitated to answer.

“Harry,” Drew warned, giving him a stern look. “What happened?”

“We, or I, might have been compromised,” he whispered with his head down.

“Were you seen or identified?” he asked, slightly preoccupied with the diary.

“No,” Harry said.

“Magical trace?” he asked as he picked the diary up with both hands.

“Completely erased. Parker apparated us from afar after I did my final sweep,” he said, watching for a reaction.

“Well then why are you worried?” Drew asked with a frown, placing the book down and gesturing for Harry to sit.”

“You know why, Drew,” Harry shook his head as he sat down, his tired body agreeing in relief.

“They have no chance to identify you,” he rolled his eyes. “You will not be revealed to be alive. You did everything I taught you, correct?”

Harry nodded his head, worry slowly easing from him… Just not completely.

“Then you need to relax a little, Harry” Drew said as he placed down the diary and folded his hands together. “This is it.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes lit up in excitement. “When shall you be destroying it?”

Drew leaned back in his chair, contemplating everything. He shrugged his shoulders as he tiredly ran a hand down his face. Harry picked up the diary and started to examine it. Suddenly a vital piece of information resurfaced to the front of his mind.

“Ah Drew?” Harry tentatively asked.

“Yeah?” he asked with a sigh.

“He’s back,” he said, putting the diary down.

“Who?” Drew asked, sitting up straighter in his chair with worry.

“Voldemort,” he winced. “I overheard a conversation that he is back.”

“Well shit,” he chuckled darkly. “This changes everything.”

Harry nodded his head. Drew and him had previously talked about what would need to happen if Voldemort came back. He dreaded the plan they were about to put in place. But he understood that he had an important role to play in this war.

“It’s time then,” Drew sighed. “You know what needs to happen.”

“I don’t want to,” Harry pouted, feeling all of his energy leaving. “Please don’t make me.”

“Harry, we’ve talked about this. You need to go back to the wizarding world and draw him in,” he said with a soft tone, empathising with the younger. “You need to find the remaining Horcruxes and destroy them so he is mortal once more.”

“But that requires searching Hogwarts, does it not?” Harry asked.

“It does,” he nodded. “Which means you need to go there under the guise of a student.”

Harry groaned and ran his hand down this face. This was another thing he didn’t want to do. He would only suffer while being in the presence of incompetent wizards and witches. All of the house dramas and love sick teenagers. Let alone being near one of the most dishonest, evil, manipulative wizards of all times; Albus Dumbledore.

“And how shall I reveal myself to that fuckwit?” Harry growled out. “It better be something miraculous.”

“Oh, I have a plan in mind that you will most certainly enjoy,” Drew smirked evilly, causing Harry to smirk along with him.

Harry leaned back in his chair, awaiting to hear the plan. He hoped that deep down it would include some type of revenge on some of the people that abandoned or hurt him. Mainly the Dursley’s. But that was not limited to just them. Dumbledore and some of the others tasked to ‘ _watch_ ’ him, were inadvertently responsible for all of the horrible things he endured as a child. Oh how desperate and dark his mind was as he sat there imagining all of the things he could do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The only two occupants in the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts stood in a tense silence. Kingsley Shacklebolt would have flinched at the immense power emitting from the other if he was not already used to the common power show-offs at the Ministry of Magic. It was unfortunate that he could not just deliver the news and take his immediate leave. He knew that once Albus Dumbledore heard the rumours he came to deliver, than an order meeting would be called.

Albus, on the other hand, had no clue as to what he was about to hear. Never before had Shacklebolt called an emergency meeting with him in the last nine years. He waited anxiously after the other had arrived for the news, but the hesitance really concerned him. Dumbledore had never seen the man in this manner before.

“What is wrong, Shacklebolt?” demanded Dumbledore, magic lashing out only slightly.

“I have come to tell you the rumours and talk that’s been going around the Ministry lately,” Kingsley cleared his throat nervously. “There are rumours suggesting You-Know-Who is back.”

“Preposterous,” scoffed Dumbledore. “I took the extra measures to ensure he could not come back until Harry Potter was found.”

“Albus,” Kingsley paused as he tried to look at anything but the other man. “It’s been almost five years since that duel and since you got rid of him. He’s come back once, what makes you think he would not have found another way back sooner than you thought?”

With his face quickly becoming red, Dumbledore turned on the spot and marched over to the nearest window to overlook the quiet grounds of Hogwarts. His magic flickering out at being questioned on his capabilities. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone dared to doubt him, his powers or how he executed a successful plan. How dare Shacklebolt come to his office and show such disrespect to the leader of the Order of the Phoenix.

“Do you think these are just nonsense rumours?” Dumbledore asked without turning around. “Do you believe these have a merit to any truth?”

“Yes I believe there is truth behind all of this talk,” he immediately responded without hesitation. “Albus, there have been a lot of old, dark and wealthy wizarding families discussing this in the vicinity of others. They do not care if they are overheard because they all believe Harry Potter is dead and no one can stop He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named if he was to come back. I have been listening, been collecting intel on the situation. I would not have come here tonight if I did not believe there was a serious threat.”

Dumbledore stood in silence for a few minutes, contemplating all of the information from his little rat in the ministry. If this was true and Voldemort was truly back, he needed to act fast and devise multiple plans to be well prepared. Now, more than ever, they all needed to find that missing nuisance of a prophet child and prepare him for immediate battle. Everything had all been going to his carefully, malicious, detailed plan until the Potter spawn disappeared. If, no, w _hen_ he was found… Merlin help him not to kill the child out of rage.

“I’ll call an Order Meeting now,” Dumbledore muttered grumpily as he walked over to his desk and sat down in his chair. “Expecto Pratronum!”

A white, glowing Phoenix materialised from the tip of Dumbledore’s wand. It flew around the office before perching itself on the edge of the Headmaster’s desk. The Phoenix’s silvery eyes eagerly looking at its caster, awaiting instruction since there was no danger in the vicinity. Dumbledore looked back upon his patronus with fiery eyes, trying to contain all of his raw emotions in front of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

“Go to all of the Order members and deliver this message,” Dumbledore’s annoyed voice filled the silent room. “Emergency meeting now. Come immediately to my office.”

Dumbledore turned his head and waved his hand dismissively at his patronus. Without another word needing to be said, the whispery silver Phoenix flapped its beautiful wings and flew directly out of the window into the quiet night sky. The room once again fell upon a tense silence. While one man was consumed with all of the new information and beginning to construct plans, the other was wishing to leave this situation, to leave before he would be stuck in this cramped office for hours.

Time seemed to slow down for the two of them as they waited in anticipation for the other Order members to arrive. The first few people landed within five minutes, looking around at each other and towards the leader of the group for some indication as to why they had been called so suddenly. They remained silent out of respect and a bit of fear of Dumbledore, waiting for him to engage first so they would not face his wrath. The room was practically sizzling with his anger, magic lashing out without the man’s knowledge. This rarely happened and they all knew that when it did, it was bad news. 

Soon enough more members begun appearing via different methods. Some apparating, some flooing and some even simply walking up to the office if they were already at Hogwarts. The large, spacious room suddenly became cramped with each new arrival. They stood almost shoulder to shoulder in quiet, although a certain red headed family couldn’t grasp the understanding of quietness. All eyes were eagerly looking at Headmaster Dumbledore, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, the only current person to defend them all from the Dark Lord.

Dumbledore had been so zoned out that he did not notice the arrival of majority of the Order members. He looked up and scanned the room with his icy blue eyes. He mentally checked off his members, noticing only two people were yet to arrive; Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall. One was down in his dungeon, the other away in Scotland. Mentally shaking his head in disapproval, he stood up and walked towards the window, his back facing the members.

“We shall give Severus and Minerva another five minutes,” suddenly said Dumbledore, gazing out at the grounds. “But we need to begin. With or without them.”

Confusion and anxiousness flooded through the room. Never before had their leader demanded they start an emergency meeting without all current members being in attendance. They looked around the room at each other, the tense silence filling with talk as they tried to sus out the situation. Dumbledore however, ignored everything around him as his mind once again became consumed with plans.

If there was only one thing he wanted to get out of this meeting tonight, then it would be that Voldemort is back and the search for Harry Potter needed to resume with more intensity than ever before. If any of these baffling baboons wanted to live a happy and long life, they needed to get through their thick skulls that the boy wasn’t dead and is the only hope for the wizarding world. He knew that time was of the essence, it was quickly starting to run out. Yet no one seemed to give a damn except himself.

Hearing a pop from behind him, Dumbledore knew that would have been Minerva. His patience was running out with his double agent. Severus should have been here already. For Merlin’s sake he was in the same building as the meeting. Although, deep down he knew that Severus wasn’t of too much help these days, so why bother waiting for him? It’s not like he would care for the missing boy. Anytime the Potter brats’ name is mentioned, he sneers or rolls his eyes. He would definitely give a talking to the younger man, this was completely and utterly disrespectful.

“Thank you all for coming so quickly,” Dumbledore suddenly said before turning around to face the anxiously waiting members. “I called this emergency meeting at receiving some very devasting news.”

The whole room fell silent, all attention towards the outwardly calm Headmaster of Hogwarts. No one seemed to breathe as they waited for him to continue, all hanging on to each word he spoke like some type of God. Well most of the members. There were a few in attendance that didn’t see Dumbledore as the wholly and mighty wizard people make him out to be. They knew firsthand how vicious and dark the wizard can get. Secretly, those people only joined the Order to defend the wizarding world from the Dark Lord when the ministry did nothing about it almost five years ago.

Before Dumbledore could say anything else, all attention turned to the door being opened. Severus Snape froze for a millisecond at the sheer amount of people in the cramped room. With a disgusted look on his face, he closed the door and practically hugged the wall. If anyone got to close to him then he would give them his famous, deadly stare. Dumbledore’s magic unintentionally lashed out to the nearest people at the utter disrespect the late member showed.

“The Dark Lord Voldemort has returned,” he said seriously, looking upon the group with his icy blue eyes.

The room erupted in to shocked chaos. Dumbledore watched their reactions intently, taking note of each person. He noticed majority of the members that worked within the Ministry of Magic were not shocked. Obviously Shacklebolt had not been lying when he said the talk was not being hidden. The rest of the group shook in their shoes, fear and hysteria rapidly setting in. This was the news they had all feared; that one day Voldemort would return. The family of red heads huddled together, Molly squeezing all of her children that were present.

“We need to find Harry Potter,” Dumbledore continued loudly, trying to be heard over the noise. “I have a proposed plan for our searches.”

“Why search, Albus?” Molly cried out, tears rolling down her face while hugging Fred… or George. She was so upset she couldn’t tell in this moment. “He could be dead for all we know.”

“Yeah we could be wasting our time if he’s dead,” Nymphadora Tonks yelled from the other side of the room. “Instead we need to be prepared for his return. Prepare for a battle or two. Prepare for the attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns.”

“How are we going to tell the children when they arrive this year, Albus?” Minerva’s thick Scottish accent floated above all the other voices. “How are we going to protect them all?”

The room only got louder and louder. Everyone was eager to put their own two cents into the situation. Dumbledore felt like his head was about to explode from the sudden increase in volume. He could no longer concentrate on one person’s voice, instead it all just blended into a sound like the stamping of Hippogriffs.

“Silence!” he yelled, holding up a hand. “I did not bring you here to waste my time. We must make a solid plan and act on it now!”

Silence. Silence is what he asked for, and silence is what he got. Everyone had felt the wave of magic wash through them as the eldest member in the room yelled. It was full of rage, full of hate, full of anger. Never had they felt that from the Headmaster before. No one dared to speak another word, nor look at one another in fear of feeling that raw magic again.

“Now that I have your attention,” Dumbledore sighed tiredly, running a hand down his face. “Let’s discuss things, shall we?”

No one dared to mutter a word, instead they nodded their heads wordlessly. Dumbledore waved his hand and chairs appeared for them all to sit on. It was in fact going to be a long meeting with a lot to discuss and a lot of plans to put in place. Satisfied that no one was going to speak out of turn, Dumbledore walked back over to his desk and sat down in his chair. He looked at the members and internally chuckled at the visible fear shown from most of them.

“By the end of this meeting, I would like to have a plan in place for the following,” he said more calmly. “Search parties, Rescue parties, Nurturing group, Rehabilitation group, Training group. Does this seem fair to begin with?”

Once more, not a word was spoken. No protest was given even though there was much going on internally from the group.

“Firstly, as we know, Harry Potter is turning 16 within one week. He will be a little easier to track as he is nearing the legal age in the wizarding world. This will help us immensely,” he continued after a few seconds. “Now, let’s talk about search parties. I would like small groups of at least five to go out a minimum of three times a week. We will start at Little Wellington and then continue expanding out in to the neighbouring suburbs, towns, cities, and states either until we find him or have looked all over England.”

“Do you expect us to take time off work to do this?” Alastor Moody barked from the back of the room.

“Why of course not,” Dumbledore tried to soothe. “I would like people to work around their schedule and find an unanimous time for the search party to happen. Whether this be before or after work, only on the weekends, whenever you have the free time is when you should be out there helping to search.”

“You can’t seriously be expecting us to drop our spare time like that, now do you Albus?” Molly tutted at him in disapproval.

“I do, Molly,” Dumbledore sat up straighter in his chair, taking offence. “And I’ll tell you all why. This boy is the missing piece to our puzzle. He is the only chance we have at finally vanquishing the Dark Lord Voldemort for once and for all. Time is of the essence, Harry Potter must be found.”

“But he would know nothing about the wizarding world, let alone how to duel,” spoke up Arthur Weasley for a change. “He would have no time to prepare.”

“That is why I want to put together a solid plan for his rehabilitation and reintroduction into the wizarding world. I want a dedicated team that can spend days with him, teaching him and training him everything. I need to have a team to nurture him, to be his friend and family. Must you question everything and waste our precious time, or may we continue without further interruption?” Dumbledore’s voice begun to grow dark and cold, nothing like the usual kind-hearted tone.

Chills were sent down majority of the member’s spines at the darkness seeping from their leader. They shuddered at yet another wave of relentless raw magic lashing out at them. The group stayed silent and avoided eye contact with Albus Dumbledore, waiting for him to tell them what to do instead of working as a unanimous team to reach the same end goal; Getting rid of Voldemort.

**> _< >_< >_<**

2am flashed in blue lights on Albus Dumbledore’s opened palm. He sighed tiredly as he closed his hand and softly lent back in his chair. Relaxing into the soft cushioning his trusty, old chair provided and looking around the dark, unlit room. He remembered all of the faces that were there not more than half an hour ago. All of his energy, both mentally and physically, were gone. Drained away by the unrelenting questions and ruthless stupidity the group held. It took five and a half hours for him to work through his plans and get it through their thick skulls. At least now he had a little more faith that this group were actually going to try and find Harry Potter.

Harry Potter. The-Boy-Who-Lived. The Dark Lord’s equal. The one who can save the wizarding world. To him, he was none of that. To Dumbledore, he was the biggest pain in the arse one could imagine. The brat had ruined all of his detailed planning he spent years making. Placing him with an unloving family to make him more needy of attention and approval. Making sure the family of muggles lived in constant fear of the magical world, which in turn subjected Harry to feeling like a freak. Appearing secretively at important events and causing small bursts of ‘accidental magic’ to cause the riffle in their relationship. Manipulating and monitoring the boy’s friendships once he would have arrived at Hogwarts to mould him exactly in to the weapon he needed to be.

The little shit just had to go and mess up everything. Severus was probably right in assuming he was a spoilt brat. While he may not have been a spoilt brat when he lived at the Dursley’s, he probably was currently living a life of luxury under the care of someone. Probably someone who knows nothing about the wizarding world. Otherwise they would have been utterly selfish to hide Harry from his fate. He was destined to defeat Voldemort by giving his life up during the duel, yet now he was completely unprepared and untrained. This was all thanks to whoever took him.

Not only did Dumbledore have to think about training the small idiot, but he needed to take him immediately out to hunt for the hidden Horcruxes. Dumbledore wouldn’t be able to destroy Voldemort once and for all if Harry doesn’t properly destroy them all, which included the one hidden inside of the young man. He didn’t care if Harry died soon, but he did care if he was found. There was so much to do, so much to teach, so much to find, yet so little time. Dumbledore rolled his head to the side and looked out the window. He watched the stars twinkle as he wondered where the little mutt was right now.

**> _< >_< >_<**

Not knowing that the Headmaster of Hogwarts was currently wondering where he was, Harry Potter was serenely asleep in his bed. Blissfully unaware of all the chaos and turmoil he was causing half way across the country. Harry briefly awoke from his slumber at the sound of a creaking floor board from inside his room. Not wanting to alert whoever was currently standing near him that he was indeed awake, he turned over on to his left side. Now with his back facing the intruder and body obstructing his movement, he slowly slid his right hand under his pillow until his fingers touched the cold metal handle of his favourite knife.

Stilling all his movement and quieting his breathing, Harry listened for any other signs from the intruder. He could hear a very soft exhale from less than a metre away and knew the person was leaning forwards slightly. Not wanting to put himself in any more danger or vulnerability, Harry pushed up with his left hand and thrusted his hips forwards to slid off of the bed. While he was still in motion, he twisted his body to the left and pulled out his right hand to reveal his weapon. He begun to landed in a crouch on the ground, protecting most of his lower body by using the bed to his advantage. Before his eyes could fully adjust on the intruders face, his right hand had already reeled back before it flung forwards and released his Blackhawk Tatang knife with precise aim.

His eyes widen in shock as he watched in slow motion as his knife travelled directly towards Drew’s forehead. He could not react or do anything in time before the inevitable impact to his boss and mentor. Squeezing his eyes closed tightly and turning his head away, he waited for the sickening noise of impact and spurt of warm blood to hit him. But it never came. So with a racing heart, he slowly opened one eye in hesitation.

What he saw almost made him jump if he had not been so in control of his body reactions. Floating in mid-air, less than an inch from his eyeball, was his Blackhawk Tatang knife. It was dangerously close to his iris that if he had moved, it would have indeed pierced the surface. Leaning back, he shook his head before snatching the offending weapon from thin air. Hearing the dark chuckle from above him, Harry looked up at Drew with anger. He stood up from the ground and placed his knife carefully in his leg holster.

“Never close your eyes when attacking,” chuckled Drew, lazily sitting down on the bed. “I could have easily injured or killed you in that time.”

“I’d rather that than think I’d done that to you,” Harry sighed and wiped the slight sweat away from his forehead.

“But apart from that,” Drew paused as a smirk overcame his rugged features. “Your timing was excellent. I did not know you were awake.”

Harry shook his head in amusement, a fond and rare smile settled on his face. He too sat down on his bed. However he sat with his back to Drew, hunched over with his hands in his hair. He was still half asleep despite the sudden surprise attack. Ever since he had started training with Drew, he would plan these surprise attacks randomly to prepare him for anything. It was a fun way to keep Harry on his toes. Alert and ready always.

“We have a lot to discuss after last night,” Drew said after a few seconds of silence. “Let’s go to the training grounds. I’ll be waiting for you outside. Five minutes.”

Drew stood up and left the room without another word. After the door was softly closed, Harry immediately walked over to his wardrobe and started to get changed in to his training gear. Although his dark, warm clothes were very appealing in the cold weather, he knew that he needed to train in his usual fighting outfit. He needed to know all the physical limitations of his leather cloak, where every weapon was situated on his body without thinking, what movements make sounds that could give him away.

With his thin, black shirt and long, black pants on that hugged his body in all the right places, Harry shrugged on his leather cloak. Wrapping it around his shoulders and clasping it in place around his neck. Opening his holster drawer, he picked up the first one which was his wand holster. He flicked aside his cloak as he held out his right arm. As soon as the holster was adjusted in to place, Harry used his magic to nonverbally attach it to his forearm. He repeated the process for his two bicep holsters before manually attaching the calf holster to his right leg.

Harry paused for a second as a wave of tiredness washed over him. He fought off the sleepiness as he started to equip the weapons to their rightful place. Before putting on his shiny and slightly heavy black boots, Harry begun to jump on the spot and shaking his arms to loosen them from the fatigue. The sounds of the equipment clanging and his socks softly pounding against the floor filled the silent room. He stretched his upper body by twisting it from left to right then backwards and fowards, waking up his muscles. After rolling his shoulders and letting out one last yawn, he grabbed his boots from the ground beside the wardrobe and hastily put them on, tying them up nice and tightly.

As Harry closed the wardrobe doors he looked out of his window and up at the bright, twinkling stars. Mesmerised by the beauty, he walked closer to his window. He took a second just to stare at the clear night sky as he calmed his mind and body, preparing himself for the events ahead. Knowing he didn’t have much longer until Drew’s time limit was up. Just as Harry started to turn and take a step away from the window, his eyes caught sight of a still figure waiting with their back to the house.

A plan developed in his mind quickly. Harry smirked as he grabbed the handle and twisted it slowly, only pausing when it made small screeching sounds. His eyes never left Drew’s form, praying he didn’t turn around while he was daring this new manoeuvre. With his window wide open, Harry leaned out of it and pointed his right hand towards the wall next to it. He concentrated on conjuring his magic to preform the _‘Carpe Retractum’_ spell. Within seconds a thin, long rope shot out of his palm and attached itself firmly to the wall. Glad his plan was working so far, he begun the most difficult part of it all; climbing out of his window.

Harry lifted his right leg up and carefully controlled each movement until it was successfully through the window. He held on tightly to the rope with his right hand as he pushed his body up from the windowsill with his left. Bringing his left foot up to rest near his left hand and then twisting his body to face the building, Harry looked down at Drew to check on him as he prepared for his next move. As quietly as he could in this situation, he slowly shifted his left leg off the ledge to hang next to his right one while at the same time lowering his body to release the tension in his left arm.

Stilling as he heard a cough, he looked down to find Drew still looking out on the land in front of him. Sweat started to build on his left hand and forehead as he slowly manoeuvred his body to the right towards the rope, trying to be more centre under it. He used his hands to guide him over, not really needing his feet as this was more of a side-to-side movement. Once Harry was satisfied with his positioning, he grabbed the rope with both hands before proceeding to steadily and gradually bring his feet up to be against the wall. He felt comfortable with his legs about a shoulder length apart and how they were firmly flat against the surface.

Taking one last look beneath him, Harry slowly lowered the top half of his body until he was completely horizontal to the side of the building. Each step he took down was lost entirely in the surrounding noises of the nocturnal animals and the soft noise of the leaves being brushed together. He tried to descend quickly but caution took the best of him, afraid of being caught in a such an exposed position. Relief washed through him momentarily as his right foot touched the grass. With both feet firmly and safely on the ground, he crouched down as the rope disappeared. His wand fell in to his opened palm, his fingers wrapping around it securely.

Without any more hesitation a nonverbal spell was shot from Harry’s wand to Drew’s unsuspecting back. The red coloured spell whirled through the air before it struck the black clothing. Harry frowned as the spelled pierced straight through Drew’s back and continued hurling in to the distance while leaving behind a massive gaping hole in his mentors’ back. Slowly, the silhouette became transparent before completely fading in to thin air.

The entire world quietened as Harry heightened all of his senses to be fully alert. Eyes were darting in every direction for any signs of danger or Drew. Something caught his attention from the corner of his left eye, a shimmer of a Disillusionment charm. He stayed still for a few seconds to see if there was any movement from the other, before he shot a nonverbal _‘Petrificus Totalus’_ spell at the person. He chuckled as he heard the inevitable thud of the person falling to the ground from the full body-binding spell.

Harry ran over to the almost completely transparent person, wand trained on them in case they managed to break free of the cruse. The shimmer of the charm apparent now as he stood directly above the still body. He crouched down and tapped the person on the head gently to disable the Disillusionment charm. Slowly the charm faded and revealed Drew who was lying flat on his stomach with his wand in one hand and a dagger in the other.

Knowing all too well what was about to happen, Harry rolled backwards to get further away from Drew. His body was low to the ground with his right leg outstretched to the side, left leg crouched taking majority of the weight, left hand flat on the ground for support and his right hand pointing his wand at his mentor. Before his eyes could fully focus, a spell was being sent his way followed immediately by the silver handed dagger. He didn’t have enough time to dodge the spell so he threw up a quick _‘Protego’_ while simultaneously pushing himself back, sliding back a little as his legs gave way from their current position to help his body be flat against the ground.

The spell dispersed as soon as it hit the shield, the dagger continuing past the now broken shield and flying only centimetres away from Harry’s body. He watched the dagger pass his face in slow motion as his hand travelled down to his right leg to grab out his Blackhawk Tatang knife. The millisecond he saw the dagger had cleared him, Harry begun to sit up and pulled his trusty weapon out of its sheath. To distract Drew from his important movement, he threw a silent _‘Expelliarmus’_ followed by a _‘Stupefy’_ at him then quickly threw his knife. The tactic seemed to work because just as the older man had disarmed both of the incoming spells, his left bicep was hit instantly by Harry’s unsuspecting knife.

Everything paused as Harry looked at Drew with unwavering concentrated eyes, looking out for any movements that could result in a threat towards him. The seconds passed by slowly until the silent air was filled by a roaring laughter from the Scottish male. Drew looked down at the knife with an unfazed expression, moving his right hand over to pull out the offending weapon without a grimace. He stood up from where he knelt, walked over to Harry and held out the handle of the weapon for him to take.

“Truce,” Drew said with a smirk. “For now.”

“For now,” Harry chuckled as he grabbed his knife.

Harry stood up from where he sat on the ground. He gave both his knife and himself a quick cleanse from the small amount of the debris and blood. Drew started walking away from him without a word, heading up the untamed but walkable path that lead towards the back of the property. With quick strides, Harry quickly caught up with the other. The two walked alongside each other in a content silence for a while, just taking in the peaceful environment.

“That entry was very innovative of you,” Drew broke the silence after a few minutes. “Ten points for creativity. However minus five for tardiness.”

“It was my first time conducting it,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Give me a break.”

“I am,” he chuckled. “Next time you should try going face first down that way your eyes are always on the target.”

“Seems sketchy to attempt for my second time,” Harry laughed.

“If you are interested in learning different ways of descending buildings, I can arrange some lessons,” he shrugged.

“Finding someone that has the free time will be a challenge, will it not?” he asked as he looked up to the taller.

“It may,” Drew shook his head with a fond smile. “But training you is an important task. Especially since, you know.”

“I know,” Harry sighed, his mood deflated a little.

The two continued to walk in silence for a couple more minutes until they reached a clearing in the tall, untamed grass. Scorch marks had been engraved in to the dead grass patch from previous training sessions. The clearing so large it was about the size of four football fields. Both Drew and Harry continued walking until they stood roughly in the middle of the giant patch. Harry looked up towards the sky and admired the stars for what they were in this moment. Bright, shinning spots in the clear sky that added to illuminating the earth along with the semi full moon.

“I suggest you execute your plan to go to Hogwarts the night after your Birthday,” Drew sighed as he sat down on the ground with both of his legs crossed. “I know it is only less than a week to prepare, however, you are ready.”

Harry stayed silent as he too sat down. He continued to watch the beautiful night sky while he processed the information. Was he ready? Sure, he was more than capable to duel Voldemort and finish collecting all of the Horcruxes. The real question he had was if he was ready to go to Hogwarts. Was he ready? Not really. He didn’t know what to expect while attending the school. He wasn’t used to mainstream teaching or how school kids acted. He had never had friends before. Only family. The family he was brought in to by Drew that kept changing and evolving over the years.

“What are you feeling? Thinking about?” Drew’s soothing voice cut through Harry’s thoughts.

“I’m apprehensive,” he gulped and looked over to his boss and mentor. “I don’t know what to expect when I arrive at Hogwarts.”

“Hopefully nothing spectacular so we, or more so you, are able to focus on the main mission,” he sighed. “Expect to be pampered and swooned over. They’ll smoother you with kindness, friendship, and caring gestures to persuade you over to their side.”

Shaking his head with a dark chuckle, Harry threw himself backwards. He placed his arms under his head as his eyes focused back on the stars. Drew made no sign to move, instead turning his head to stare ahead at the empty field.

“Expect private training sessions from them,” Drew continued. “Once Hogwarts starts back you’ll be sorted and then attend the usual classes. You’ll have to keep an unsuspicious façade on the entire time so they don’t get wind of your mission.”

“I know that I’ll probably be an outcast. That I won’t fit in with the students,” Harry spoke up before the other could continue.

“Does it truly matter if you are an outcast?” he asked with a frown.

“Well, yeah I guess,” he shrugged. “I guess if I need to keep up some type of a façade then I need to show some type of social skills with the other students. Or am I wrong.”

“You are not wrong,” he chuckled and looked over his shoulder at Harry with amusement. “However making and maintaining friends should be the least of your worries. As you know, you’ll be around people we have identified to be suspicious and dangerous.”

“I know,” Harry sighed once more. “How will we be staying in contact? I guess you have a discrete method already planned?”

Drew chuckled loudly as he moved his coat to the side. Harry sat up in curiosity, watching as the older male pulled out a squared shaped gift that was covered by a brown wrapping paper. He held it in his hands for a second before he passed it over to Harry. He took the gift from Drew gently as if this was the most precious item his hands would ever hold. He placed it on the ground in front of his crossed legs and slowly unwrapped it, careful not to break whatever was inside. The brown wrapping paper fell aside to reveal a brand new, clean mirror. It reflected the stars above, the well defined twinkling made Harry smile.

The peaceful stars were sudden replaced by an image of Drew’s softly smiling features. Harry looked over to find an identical mirror begin held up to the others’ face. He looked back down at his own mirror and picked it up to be right in front of his own face. Smiling back at Drew, he waved and laughed softly when he saw both the mirror Drew and the one sitting beside him wave back.

“This is incredible,” Harry laughed as he put down his mirror, hearing a soft echo of his own voice emitting from Drew’s mirror. “A two-way mirror?”

“I thought it would be both practical and an easy method,” Drew nodded in response as he placed his own mirror back in his coat pocket.

“Where will you be keeping yours normally?” he asked as he leant back on his hands.

“My office, of course,” he smiled as he too leaned back.

“Of course,” he shook his head in amusement. “Where else would the mighty Drew McIntyre keep his mirror?”

The two chuckled at the joke before settling in to silence once again. Harry closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly. He took a deep breath in, held it for a second, and then exhaled deeply. The soft early morning breeze doubled up with his cooling sweat sent small chills down his body, raising goosebumps on his arms. He opened his eyes to stare at the sky once more. There was something so calming about a clear night sky when all of the stars were out in full force. He couldn’t explain it, but it was one of few things to help him find peace in stressful times.

“Shall we discuss our next topic?” Drew asked eventually. “The planned attack?”

Harry nodded his head silently knowing the other was looking at him.

“I know you want to draw everyone away from Hogwarts when you are discovered,” he continued. “And I also know you have always secretly wanted revenge on your relatives.”

Drew smirked when an ungentlemanly snort was released from the younger beside him. Shaking his head in amusement, he sat up straight as his tone switched from light-hearted to serious.

“As you know, your magical signature in the immediate area of their house triggers an alarm. So once that is disabled you will be fine. Also as you know, we have tested what triggers the alarm protecting the Dursley’s themselves,” he said quietly. “Any physical or emotional harm done to them that is not self-inflicted will cause some order members to arrive within ten minutes. I will be going tomorrow night to test how long the response will take this time. Especially considering the arising circumstances of Voldemort’s return and no doubt with their search efforts.”

Harry hummed in agreement as he too sat up, the whole mood from their current conversation turning serious. He needed to be paying full attention to everything being said. No distractions. Not even from the beautiful sky.

“I will test out a small attack on one or two of them,” Drew continued, staring ahead. “I have never seen if being unconscious triggers the alarm, so I will use a Stupefy before cutting a small line on them. Bringing Charlie with me will help me monitor the changes in the wards while I experiment with the limitations.”

“I wish I could come along,” Harry sighed. “But I know it’ll be safer to remain here.”

“Correct,” he nodded solemnly. “However, it will be less than a week until you, yourself, will be executing your revenge safely.”

“That’s true. I have been waiting almost eleven years. Another week can’t hurt,” he laughed darkly. “I wonder if they’ll recognise me.”

“It’s plausible,” hummed Drew. “Although I reckon if anyone were too, it would be your maternal Aunt.”

“I agree,” Harry nodded. “Shall we head back inside now? I’m quiet cold now the adrenaline has worn off.”

Drew laughed loudly as he stood up, offering a hand for Harry. He took the hand and stood up, stretching his aching muscles from being on the ground for so long. The two walked side by side along the path back to their house. One anxiously thinking about the youngers near future, while the other imagined of all the different ways he could inflict his suffering he felt at the hands of his relatives. The house came in to view shortly and soon enough they were approaching the door. Drew’s hand hesitated on the handle, not turning it, as he looked back at Harry with a serious expression.

“What?” Harry asked in a whisper as adrenaline started to pump through his system again, ready for a fight with danger.

“You sure you don’t want to go through your window?” Drew asked with concern.

Harry took a second to process what the other had just said, before he burst out laughing. Drew chuckled before opening up the door to their home. A wave of nostalgia hitting him as he stepped in, thinking back on the very first time he brought Harry in to this room as an almost five year old child. The way the child’s eyes lit up at the new environment. The way he would gasp at the sight of any magic. The way he would flinch if a hand or voice was raised around him. Looking over his shoulder, Drew smiled proudly at the strong, resilient, confident young man Harry had developed in to. He wouldn’t have traded anything in the world for the past eleven years.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. I'm not doing well mentally at the moment. I would really appreciate the love for this chapter and story. I love you guys <3

**Chapter 4**

Only the sounds of the clock ticking and the crackling fire emitted from the otherwise silent office. No movement had been heard within as the minutes slowly turned to hours. Drew McIntyre sat in front of his fireplace with a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. His mind travelling miles away to another place, thinking over the plans for the upcoming week. He was consumed by worry for Harry, taking him in when he was young and helping to raise him all these years had a profound effect on him. The young man felt like close family to him, almost like a son. Drew only wanted what was best for the younger.

Sighing softly, Drew’s eyes flickered over to the clock to find it was minutes away from midnight. He quickly sculled the rest of his alcoholic beverage before pulling out his wand and casted his patronus. The silvery figure of a unicorn seeped from his wand to fill the middle of the room, the majestic creature looking stunning in the gentle moonlight shine. Drew stood up and approached his country’s national animal, patting it affectionately on the head below the long, pointy horn. 

“Go find Charlie and deliver this message for me please,” Drew’s thick Scottish accent filled the quiet room. “It’s time. Meet in the foyer when you get this.”

The silver unicorn bowed to its creator before majestically prancing out of the office window and in to the dark night sky. With a soft smile, Drew made his way to the chest that sat in the far corner of the room. After tapping his wand three times on the lid, it creaked open and a large wooden structure arose from the depths. It held an array of weapons varying from guns, to knives, to swords, and even to a crossbow. Drew carefully pulled off three knives, his V42 Stiletto, combat knife and survival knife. Laying them out neatly on his desk, he pushed the weaponry structure down and closed the chest lid. 

This time Drew tapped on the lid two times and a new wooden structure arose, holding a range of clothing he used specifically for training and missions. He firstly pulled out two double sided holsters for his weapons. He unclipped the holster already on his leg that held his trusty dagger before replacing it with one of the new ones. Placing the sliver handed dagger and V42 Stiletto on his left leg, he placed the combat and survival knife on his right leg. Drew left the holster he just took off on his desk as he moved back over to the chest. He grabbed out a big black coat with a fur hoodie, swinging the heavy item on and fastening up the first three buttons. Satisfied he had everything he needed, he pushed the wooden structure down and closed the chest once more.

Without any more delay he placed his wand back in its holster on his right forearm, walked out of his office and headed down the stairs as quietly as his big, black, leather boots would allow him to. He paused briefly on the second floor and looked at the closed door where Harry was meant to be asleep. His eyes caught the slight shimmer of a spell that hid a certain person from view. Shaking his head with a smile, Drew continued to walk down the stairs.

“Go back to bed, Harry,” he said quietly but loud enough for the youngster to hear.

A soft chuckle filled the air as Drew continued walking which made him smile even more. He heard the creak of a door being opened before it got closed a second later. It was so typical of Harry to be out of bed and wanting to sneak around when there was something going on. Drew thought back on all of the memories fondly, ever since he had first arrived here. The young inquisitive mind had always been curious about everything from the mundane household chores to high profile missions. Drew and his team found it hard to keep anything secret from Harry.

As he reached the first floor, he was pulled out of the memories by a disapproving click of a tongue. His eyes laid upon Charlie Poole lazily lounging on one of the couches. The young lad was shaking his head with a cheeky, yet stern look on his face. Drew couldn’t help but chuckle at the antics of the other.

“You’re punctuality is getting later and later,” Charlie chuckled as he stood up and walked closer. “We don’t want you becoming too sloppy, now do we Drew?”

“Hush and do your finally checks,” quietly laughed Drew in response.

The two men stayed silent as they pulled out each weapon to check over, fasten all sheaths and holsters, made sure they had any other items properly secured, and finally checked their clothing to ensure there would be no foreseeable interferences. Finding everything was in order, Drew swiftly walked out of the house without looking back to see if Charlie was following. They continued walking up the engraved driveway until they made it far enough away to apparate without disturbing the household residents.

With no warning, Drew grabbed on to Charlie’s arm and immediately apparated the both of them to a street not too far from Privet Drive. Drew led the way to the house silently, preferring to be overcautious than foolishly confident. For all he knew an Order member could be anywhere. With this in mind, he put up his hoodie, it hanging low over his face to hide his identity in the dark night. The surrounding streets were quiet; eerily so. The fluorescent street lamps and soft moon light lit their path, casting shadows that kept them alert and on guard.

Finally Drew and Charlie reached their destination; Privet Drive, Little Whinging in Surrey. The two stood at the entrance of the street and stood there for a few seconds just observing the area. Drew was scoping out a safe spot to retreat to once the wards were activated, while Charlie was searching for any out of the ordinary things such as wards, charms or glamours. Drew pointed towards the house directly opposite from the Dursley’s house as he begun to walk.

“We apparate to that roof the moment the wards shift,” he said in a hushed tone. “No excuses.”

Charlie merely nodded in agreement before they stood at the edge of the wards on number 4 Privet Drive. He closed his eyes as he begun to access the log for the wards, deciding which ones to take down first and which ones to leave. It was a bit of a lengthy process as it seemed new ones had been added for extra protection in the last few weeks. Finally he disabled the first one, a ward to detect any magical use or signatures. Followed up by the alarm if trespassers were on the property, then the anti-intruder ward, the ward to trap unauthorised personnel, and the ward that alerted the Order members to any potential trouble makers, just to name a few.

Drew remained silent as Charlie was busy taking them down, he busied himself in thinking of the next step. His wand subconsciously sliding down in to his hand and ready for action the moment he was given the signal. He luckily didn’t have to wait too much longer as Charlie finally opened his eyes and nodded, staying still and waiting for him to make the first move instead. Not even hesitating, showing he fully trusted the other, Drew begun walking to the front door. The two of them looking over their shoulders the entire time, keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble.

Casting a nonverbal _‘Alohomora’_ , the door quietly clicked before slowly opening to reveal a living room clouded in darkness. Drew turned around and observed the street once more to make sure the coast was clear. Satisfied, he entered the soundless house and stood in the middle of the large room. He held his wand up before the tip illuminated the room with a blue light, casting long, crazy shadows as he moved around. The first thing that caught his eyes was the slightly ajar cupboard under the stairs. Anger filled him and his fingers clenched tightly around his wand. This was the cupboard Harry had told him all about. On his previous visits here, it blended in so easily. Yet here tonight, in the forbidding darkness, it stood out like a sore thumb and reminded him why he was doing this.

Shaking the anger away, desperate to not let his emotions cloud his judgment, he turned his head in time to see Charlie close the front door. Drew pulled down his hoodie in the safety of the house. He nodded at the other before casting a nonverbal _‘Homenum Revelio’_. His eyes followed as a maker was placed upon Charlie’s head, smirking a little when the younger shivered from the strange sensation. Averting his gaze, he looked up to find three makers on the roof, indicating the human presence upstairs. Although there was only meant to be three residents, he couldn’t help but quickly scan the rest of the house downstairs. Relief when there was no other sign of human life.

“All upstairs,” Drew whispered extremely quietly. “Kitchen first then we’ll go find the adults.”

In silent agreement, the two travelled soundlessly in to the dark kitchen. Drew signalled for Charlie to stay at the entrance while he ventured further in, slowly searching around in the drawers and on the bench top as quietly as he could for a sharp knife. His efforts soon paid off as he opened a drawer to find a stash of cooking utensils, including a rather overly large butchers knife. He made sure his presence had not disturbed too much of the kitchen, not giving away their little scavenger hunt during the middle of the night.

Drew who held his wand in one hand and the knife in the other, carefully walked back towards Charlie while showing off dangerous looking object. Charlie merely shook his head in amusement as he followed his boss back out in to the living room. The two paused near the cupboard under the stairs as they heard movement from above. Drew looked up and saw the marker that had been in a separate room from the others moving around. He watched with intent as the marker came out in to the hallway and moved towards the staircase.

Quickly casting a Disillusionment charm over them both and turning off his light, Drew stayed completely still while watching the marker move with a calm beating heart. Closer and closer the marker came to the stairs, louder and louder the footsteps became. But then it turned and walked in to a separate room. Drew dared not to move as he listened for anything, for signs of movement or what that person was doing. Then he heard the weak stream of a piss and he sighed in relief.

“The fat whale is peeing,” Drew leaned over to whisper in Charlie’s ear.

Charlie tried his hardest not to laugh from the comment. If it wasn’t for the training he had undergone for years, he definitely would have been roaring with laughter by now. Drew leaned back with a satisfied smirk and looked up at the ceiling upon hearing the running water from the sink.

“Gross, he didn’t flush,” Charlie whispered just before they heard a door open.

The two stilled, not talking as the footsteps got quieter. Drew watched the marker travel up the hallway and back to the original spot it had been in beforehand. He waited another minute before he dared move once more. With the coast clear, he lit up the tip of his wand as he started to ascend the stairs one at a time. His body, his mind, his eyes, his senses, everything was on high alert after that close call. Pausing at any little sound, cautious beyond reason.

Finally after an agonisingly long five minutes, the two stood in front of the closed door to the room where Mr. and Mrs. Dursley hopefully soundly slept. Drew looked over at Charlie before waving his wand over him. The other’s blue eyes turned to brown, his short, blonde hair turned to long, wavy brown hair, his facial structure turned slightly from sharp and angular to soft and round. Nodding, he watched as Charlie held his own wand up and waved it over him. He felt a warm flow of magic rush down his head that indicated the successful casting. Now with their glamours in place, Drew and Charlie entered the bedroom.

Drew held his wand and knife out, ready to strike. While Charlie pulled out two short swords from their sheath on his back, their silver metal catching in the blue light and reflecting on to the walls as they both moved closer to the bed. Laying in the bed with their backs to each other, were Vernon and Petunia Dursley. The disgusting, fat husband snored so loudly that water in the nearby glass reverberated. The tiny frame of Harry’s maternal aunt was the closet to the two, she was curled in to herself on the edge of the bed. She obviously didn’t want to be near her husband while he slept, probably afraid he’ll suffocate her.

Just as Drew took one more step closer, he saw Petunia’s eyes begin to slowly open. Not taking a chance since they only just arrived, he quickly shot a nonverbal _‘Stupefy’_ at her. Both men simultaneously paused as they waited to see if she would stay asleep. Luck was on their side as the skinny lady continued to lay there unconscious. Drew turned around slightly and leaned in to Charlie, his mouth directly next to the others’ ear.

“Stay at the door. Keep an eye on the kid and the wards,” he whispered as quietly as he could. “As soon as they change, let me know and go. We’ll meet on that roof top.”

Charlie nodded as he walked back to the doorway, keeping a look out for his boss. He didn’t just keep a look out on those two things, he also kept checking back on him to ensure he was okay and didn’t need assistance. He was nervous to immediately leave once the wards changed, leaving him behind. But he knew that if anyone could handle a situation like this and get out scot free that it was Drew McIntyre.

With Charlie on guard and Petunia safely back asleep, Drew begun the fun part. He firstly ensured the fat whale and lame excuse of a human was also sound asleep by casting another _‘Stupefy’_. Now with the two of them out cold, Drew could manoeuvre them to a position that would set the scene and not give away his devious presence to the stupid Order members. He levitated Vernon a few inches off the bed before rotating him to face his wife. With the heavy lump back down, Drew approached Petunia. He placed the butchers knife and his wand on the bedside table before he manually turned her over in bed to lay flat on her back. He chuckled to himself as he thought about how even a man his size would have broken his back trying to move Vernon.

Drew stood back up once he was satisfied the two were in a suitable position. He reached down and grabbed his SP1 Marine combat knife, the perfect one to do his little experiment with. The dark grey metal didn’t reflect the light, instead engulfing it to be extra discrete. The curved, sharp edges begged to be used, to be slid across the blemished skin of its next victim. Drew did not deny the knife its wish as he sat down on the bed and brought it down to the right side of Petunia’s face, hovering it inches above the skin. Specifically choosing her right side as it was the side closest to her husband who will be playing the part of the culprit later in the play he had written for them.

He lowered the knife and dug the cold metal in to her skin before quickly pulling it in a straight line. A red streak appeared in the tracks of the combat knife, and soon small dots of blood appeared along the line. Petunia flinched in her sleep, moving her face away from the knife subconsciously. The cheek soon had a small stream of blood running down it, threatening to spill on to the pillow below. Now was the moment of truth; would be unconscious and being attacked still trigger the alarms?

“Charlie?” he asked in to the quietness. “Any change?”

“No,” he simply said, eyes never leaving the hallway.

A satisfied hum rung through the room as Drew turned his attention back to Petunia. He wanted to cause a bit more of a deeper wound to the foul woman before he left. Looking from his combat knife to the butchers knife, it was clear in his mind which one would do more damage. So without another thought Drew holstered his knife before grabbing the giant kitchen knife from the bedside table. His evil smirk reflected on the silver surface as he moved it around to inspect every inch of it. Yes, indeed, this knife was quite perfect for the job.

The bright moonlight that streamed through the window bounced off the knife to create a silver glow along the wall. Drew watched it in fascination as he brought it closer down to the still body beneath him. The reflection moved down with it, slowly coming to shine brightly on the closed eyes. He watched as Petunia frowned subconsciously in her sleep and twitched, almost as if she knew what was coming next. Before creating any new lacerations, he decided to toy with her and see if it provoked any reaction to the wards. Dragging the knife along her delicate skin, digging in to sensitive spots, leaving red marks from the sharp edge, smearing the already drawn blood around on her cheek.

As much as he truly was enjoying this little revenge session, Drew must get back to the task at hand. He adjusted himself slightly on the bed so he was hovering over Petunia. He grabbed firm hold of her right upper arm and pinched the skin to protrude what little fat she had outwards from the bone. Drew positioned the razor-sharp tip in the middle of his grip before applying enough pressure to pierce the tainted skin. He went only a tiny little bit more deeper, the knife about two centimetres in her flesh, making sure to steer clear of the humerus bone. Without flinching or grimacing, he then pulled the knife upwards towards the shoulder, cutting easily through the fat and muscle.

The only sound he could hear in this present moment was the tearing of the skin, the gushing of the blood rushing from the cut, and the heavy, pained breathing from Petunia. She didn’t seem to be waking from the spell, nor consciously aware of the danger and harm that was being subject to her. He looked back over his shoulder to Charlie to see him staring blankly at the wound. After whistling at him, Charlie’s brown eyes focused on Drew’s face. He waited patiently with an expecting look, as the other closed his eyes and analysed the wards.

“They are completely fine,” Charlie breathed in surprise, looking at Drew a moment later.

“I suspected as much. They are not so smart for an organisation that is meant to be aiding the war against Voldemort,” Drew laughed lowly.

Turning his attention back to the unconscious pair, Drew begun to set the stage. He dragged over Vernon’s closest hand and pried open the fat little sausage fingers. He guided the hand over the open wound, allowing it to soak up an acceptable amount of blood. Once the blade of the knife had also been smeared in a little more blood, Drew discarded the hand back down on the bed and delicately placed the knife under Vernon’s blood drenched hand. He forced the fat fingers to curl around the handle securely, making it appear to have been in his grasp the entire time.

“Get ready,” Drew said as he stood up from the bed.

Picking up his wand from the bedside table, Drew pointed his wand at Petunia. He was entirely pleased with how the wound and cut looked as well as the placement of the offending ‘weapon’. Both muggle police and the Order wouldn’t know he or Charlie had been there. He would make sure this was the perfect crime scene. An open and shut case. Perhaps a confusing one for the dim witted muggle cops, but that wasn’t his fault. With a smirk firm on his face, he casted a silent _‘Rennervate’_.

“Wakey-wakey,” Drew’s low voice echoed throughout the room, sending shivers down Charlie’s spine and enticing Petunia from slumber.

Petunia’s eyes slowly begun to flutter open. She swore she had just heard a strange voice in the room. Which would be impossible. Those blasted wizards had ensured no one could enter their house unless it was Harry Potter or themselves. But nonetheless, when she focused her eyes to the dimly lit room she found two strange men standing in the room. As more of her senses came back to her, she realised her right arm was on fire.

“Hello Petunia darling,” he whispered as he leaned directly over her, getting right in her face. “How have you been?”

“What, w-who are you?” Petunia’s groggy voice filled the room as she turned her face to the right away from the intruder.

When she looked down at her arm, Petunia saw a rather large and deep cut which was actively bleeding. Panic filled her even more so when her eyes laid upon the blood ridden knife her husband, Vernon, was holding on to. She felt her breath disappear and tears pool as her body shut down from the shock. Petunia managed to turn her head slightly to be staring in to the malicious dark green eyes that had been changed, unbeknownst to her, from a dark brown colour.

“Drew, they’ve shifted,” Charlie suddenly said before a loud bang was heard.

“So sad I can’t stay around and watch the show. We have so much to catch up on Petunia. Maybe one day, very soon, I’ll visit again,” Drew chuckled darkly as he stood back and took in the view. “Not that you’ll be remembering any time soon.”

Before she could utter a single word or make sense of what was happening, the stranger had lifted his wand to point directly at her. Through the daze Petunia was able to put two and two together enough to realise what was going to happen next to her. Utter terror flashed in her eyes before she squeezed them tightly shut. In this moment Petunia Dursley thought she was well and truly about to die. What had she done to deserve this?

“Obliviate,” Drew whispered, erasing this encounter for safety. Not like he needed to since he and Charlie did have glamours on. But it was better to be safer than sorry.

Drew watched as the green light shot from the tip of his wand and hit Petunia in the middle of her forehead. A few seconds later, a blank look overtook her brown eyes. This was the cue he needed to know his spell had indeed worked like he intended. He quickly shot a ‘Rennervate’ to Vernon before he knew it was time to leave. With one more smirk at the empty looking Petunia, he apparated out of the bedroom from 4 Privet Drive.

Landing on the roof with nothing more than a mere soft thud, Drew crouched down beside Charlie. They hid on the other side of the roof, behind the crest so they were almost completely out of view from the street below. He closed his eyes and begun to draw back any of his DNA, magical energy or magical signature that had been left behind. A tingling sensation filled his chest to let him know the process was complete and the Dursley house was clean of any evidence he had been there.

There was no need to ask if Charlie had already done it because he trusted the other to stick to the training he taught. They stayed silent as the two of them watched the street with intensity. The seconds turned to minutes as the street continued to be void of all movement. However, it didn’t remain that way for much longer when a loud bang alerted them to the presence of someone new. They eyes roamed the street, looking for the person. Drew frowned as he continued to struggle locating them.

A second popping sound indicated a new arrival which was closely followed by two more. Distant voices floated to their ears from the left, drawing their attention to the very start of the street. Four silhouetted outlines stood under a street lamp, talking and pointing to the Dursley’s house. Drew looked down at his watch to find it had taken them eight minutes to arrive since the alarm first started. Typical. Drew was glad there was no actual sense of urgency from the Order, it just confirmed his suspicions of the man in charge.

**> _< >_< >_<**

It was late at night when an alarm had been ringing loudly in his quarters, waking him abruptly from his peaceful sleep. Dumbledore tiredly got out of his bed and made his way to the bathroom. As he relived his bladder, his sleepy mind was thinking of the potential exciting situations he would find upon arriving to the muggle neighbourhood. Aching bones slowed him down as he changed from his colourful pyjamas to one of his colourful robes. His foggy mind clouded his judgement, making him walk down several flights of stairs before he realised he could simply apparate from inside the castle to Privet Drive.

Without wasting any more time than he already had, Dumbledore shifted the Hogwarts wards to allow him to leave. He quickly apparated away, landing at the start of the quiet street. He wasn’t alone either by the time he arrived. Severus Snape, Arthur, Fred and George Weasley stood in a small circle under a street lamp nearby. He swiftly made his way over to them, annoyed the stupid alarm had woken him up and frazzled the common sense out of him.

“Have any of you been over?” Dumbledore said with a sense of urgency about him.

“No,” replied Severus, sparing a glance at the house in question.

Nodding his head, Dumbledore moved passed the group and headed over to the only house with lights on. He controlled his breathing and kept his heart from beating too quickly. Anxiety flared through him. This could only be one thing; an attack on the Dursley’s from Voldemort and his lackies. The biggest fear he had was to find them all dead. Once he found Harry, he would have the unfortunate news of telling the poor boy his only living relatives were perished. He needed the boy to be able to concentrate on training rather than grieving.

Dumbledore held his breath as he opened the door and stepped inside the house. The first thing he noticed was how noisy it was upstairs. He could he a somewhat infuriating wailing sound as well as hurried footsteps. Looking over his shoulder, he found all four men had followed and were equally as intrigued to the sounds as he, himself, were.

The small group made their way up the stairs and towards the bedroom where it all seemed to be happing in. Dumbledore was the first to walk in to the chaos. He froze at the entrance of the doorway as his cold, disappointed eyes laid upon the family of three. Dudley Dursley was kneeling on the floor in the middle of the room, an inconsolable mess. Petunia Dursley was pacing back and forwards, holding a small, blood soaked cloth to her arm. Vernon Dursley was sitting completely still on the bed, staring numbly ahead with tears in his eyes. What got his and the other four’s attention was the bloodied knife he was loosely holding on to.

“Dear Merlin,” Arthur whispered from behind Dumbledore.

Snapping out of the shocked daze he was in, Dumbledore entered the room fully followed by the red headed family. He walked up to the ghostly white woman pacing around the room and gently guided her to sit on the other side of the bed away from her husband. Nothing was adding up in his mind. The alarm should not have gone off if it had just been an altercation within themselves. Something seemed off and there was only one way to determine what caused the alarm to trigger.

“Arthur, tend to her arm while I have a look in her memory,” he said calmly. “Severus go make some tea for them and put a calming draught in.”

Both men nodded before the room disappeared from Dumbledore’s view. He sunk deeply in to Petunia’s mind, feeling the emotions tenfold from the distressed woman. Flickering through the last few moments, he arrived finally to the intended destination. He watched intently as the memory played out in front of his eyes. Petunia turned her head to the side to see her Husband slowly waking up as well, a soft smile settling on her face. Until she spotted the knife covered in blood in his hands.

The memory Petunia let out a massive screech as she caught sight of the massive cut on her arm. She sat up in her bed and looked down to find a pool of blood on the sheets. Almost falling out of bed, she numbly walked away until her back hit the wall. She let out another scream which truly roused her husband from his sleep. Dumbledore could feel the fear that she had held in this moment. Vernon held up the knife in front of his face, it shook in his trembling fist.

“Tunie?” Vernon’s scared voice echoed around his mind. “Tunia what happened? Did I do something?”

Without saying anything, Petunia nodded her head. She removed her hand that had subconsciously grabbed her bleeding arm. Her now tainted hand shook as her eyes couldn’t leave the gushing wound.

“Dad? Mum?” the sound of her son’s voice brought her back to the present moment.

The rest of the scene sped by as Dumbledore watched how the three family members spent the next few minutes. Nothing was out of the ordinary a part from the fact this incident seemed to be self-inflicted. No sign of magic. No sign of foul play. No sign of anything. Dumbledore watched the son break down in tears and the husband walk around the room in a daze. He watched as Petunia was the only one to start cleaning up the mess Vernon had made, looking after the cut as much as she could.

Dumbledore pulled out of the memory abruptly, shaking in rage at being called here for nothing important. He looked around to find George and Fred handing cups the two shaking males now sitting on the other side of the bed. Arthur had just finished wrapping Petunia’s arm with some muggle medical supplies. Too furious to be in the same room as these imbeciles, he stood and made his way down stairs.

In the kitchen stood two new people, Minerva and Nymphadora, as well as Severus. They must have arrived not long ago since he walked in to their conversation of what the other male had seen as of yet. Dumbledore sighed heavily as he stood amongst the group. They all looked expectantly at him, awaiting to hear what he had found.

“It was self-inflicted,” he said finally after musing on different thoughts.

“Preposterous,” Severus dismissed immediately. “The alarm would never trigger if it was caused by themselves.”

“Severus, I watched as she awoke to Vernon holding the knife soaked in her own blood,” sighing, Dumbledore poured a cup of tea for himself. “Perhaps her fear was so great it caused the alarm to activate.”

“So you are saying we got called here for nothing?” Nymphadora asked while crossing her arms over chest, her hair subconsciously turning a fiery red.

Dumbledore merely nodded his head, already deep in thought. It didn’t make sense, it didn’t add up. Yet it was reasonable enough to believe she was so terrified it had set it off. Was it possible that someone had been there? If someone had and erased her memory, then he would have felt their magical signature in the vicinity. But when he was up there, there was no such thing like that. He trusted the memory he saw. He trusted his head, even though his gut was saying something was wrong. And alas, it was not the first time he had witnessed Vernon harm his wife physically.

“Does that mean I can leave?” Minerva interrupted Dumbledore’s thoughts.

“Ah yes, my dear Minerva,” he hummed before taking another sip. “Since you are not needed, you may leave. You too Nymphadora.”

The two women didn’t need to be told twice as they disappeared out of the house within seconds. Severus and Dumbledore stayed in the kitchen in silence, both consumed by their own thoughts. The remained there like that until the three red heads walked in. Arthur came to stand next to Dumbledore, while the twins awkwardly stood near the door way.

“They just want to be left alone,” Arthur said with a massive sigh. “I’ve cleaned her cut up as much as I could and made sure they all drunk a decent amount of the calming draught.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” solemnly said Dumbledore.

A sombre silence fell upon the group of men. The sense of urgency long gone at no sign of the missing young man. Any hope that four of them had, washed away with each second. While Severus had remained the only one of them that never had hope of finding Harry Potter. He knew that the boy would have already been found by now if he was still in this country. But there was a small part of him, deep, deep down, that didn’t want to entirely give up the last living connection to Lily.

“I’ll be taking my leave now,” Severus spoke in to the mostly silent room, soft voices floating down from upstairs.

“As should we,” Arthur gestured to his two boys, waving a goodbye before walking out the room.

Dumbledore was left on his own in the tiny muggle kitchen. He listened to the soft talking from the family that had caused him so much distress and anger over the years. Here he was helping them when they had failed in the one task he asked them to do; ensure the boy lived until he could go to Hogwarts. It was not a hard task. It was not an inconvenience. It was not a burden on them. It was why he offered to compensate them generously with the boy’s money. He despised being in this house or anywhere near them.

Gulping down the last of his tea, Dumbledore swiftly left the house without another word to the family. After he had closed the door behind him, he marched up the dark street with his robes swirling out behind him in the gentle breeze. How he wished that this night had turned out differently, if only he was walking away from the house with the Potter brat in his grasp. His body took him towards the end of the street while his mind was preoccupied in dark thoughts.

Dark thoughts about how he would make the brat pay for all the hassles he caused, not only to him but to the entire wizarding world. Thoughts of how much he would love to see the kid die with his own eyes, for the cause of course. Sacrificing his life to save thousands of others. Oh the pleasure it would give him as he would watch Voldemort take the little monster’s last breath away, ending the painful existence that was Harry Potter.

**> _< >_< >_<**

A loud bang signified the final departure of Albus Dumbledore. Drew looked at Charlie with a tired smile. The two continued to sit there staring at the house in front of them. Wondering what had happened inside for the past fifteen minutes. Charlie suddenly begun to chuckle, gaining a curious gaze from the other.

“Sorry,” he laughed even louder. “I just realised I didn’t put the wards I disabled back up. And they still haven’t been, meaning they don’t know someone has messed with the warding.”

“Really?” Drew chuckled in surprise.

“I’m not going to even bother to put them up. Stuff them,” he snorted while shaking his head.

“Might make Harry’s job that bit easier if they still haven’t noticed in a week,” he mused, also shaking his head.

Charlie nodded his head in agreement as they settled back in to a comfortable silence, his eyes training back on to the only house with lights on. They stayed crouched on the top of the roof and waited patiently for any other signs of Order members or muggle police. But time went by and nothing happened. No one else turned up, meaning the mission had been a success.

“Well we might as well head home,” Charlie let out a small yawn. “I’m exhausted.”

“You can just head straight home instead of back to base if you would prefer,” said Drew, standing up and stretching.

“Yeah, I’ll probably just head home,” he nodded as he too stood up. “Well thank you for inviting me along.”

“Of course, thank you for your help,” he smiled as he reached out to shake hands. “I’ll be in touch soon for your next mission.”

“Have a good night,” Charlie smiled, shaking the offered hand.

And just like that, Drew was left alone on the roof top. He looked around the surrounding area illuminated softly by the moonlight, a scene of serenity filled his eyes and ears. He felt a sense of relief at how well the night had just gone. He looked at number 4 Privet Drive one last time to find all of the lights had been turned off. Not needing to be there anymore, he apparated from the spot and headed straight to the property.

Landing far enough away to not disturb the sleeping occupants of the house, he begun to walk slowly towards the door. Thoughts of the nights event and the reactions he had witnessed replaying in his mind. He was confident that when Harry leaves to execute his plan of revenge soon, he’ll be fine and get away with it all. He didn’t need to be there to baby sit him anymore because Drew could positively say Harry had grown in to a strong and independent young man. He was proud to have him in his life.

When Drew opened the door, his eyes were drawn to the crackling fire in the living room. Rolling his eyes and closing the door softly behind him, he walked further in to find Harry laying on the couch closest to the fire, fast asleep. Taking off his coat and laying it on the younger, he shook his head before walking over to the opposite couch. He sat down just as Harry begun to stir from his sleep.

“Couldn’t stay awake?” he asked with a soft smile upon his features.

“Apparently,” Harry yawned as he slowly sat up.

With a foggy mind, Harry placed the warm coat upon his shoulders and wrapped the comfortable material around his cold body. He looked at Drew sheepishly before settling in, looking expectantly at the other. He was eager to hear how the night turned out.

“Is that envelope for me?” Drew asked after spotting an unopened, yellow envelope on the coffee table.

“Yeah,” he nodded and rubbed his eyes. “Came not long after you two left. So I left it there for you.”

“Thank you,” he nodded his head before relaxing back in to the couch. “Well I’m sure you are keen to know about tonight.”

“I am,” he chuckled lightly.

“It went well,” Drew smiled in return. “Charlie took down a few wards and forgot to replace them when we left. Turns out they didn’t check the wards when they arrived.”

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes at the stupidity of the Order members who had been called. It wasn’t like checking the warding was a massive task, it was quite simple in reality.

“I used a stupefy on Petunia and gave her a deep cut on the arm. No wards changed,” he continued on. “It is safe to say you can cause as much harm to them as you would like while they’re unconscious.”

A dark glimmer flashed in Harry’s green eyes as a smirk settled on his face. His tired mind suddenly awake and thinking of all the things he could do. All of the revenge he could carry out. He would make sure all three of them paid for what they did to him over the period of almost five years. They weren’t family. They weren’t relatives. They were nothing but horrible people that don’t deserve to live. His mind was overtaken by plans of who he would do what to and with what weapons. It would not be long until their suffering would take place. And Harry Potter could simply not wait for that day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very nervous for you all to read this chapter. Please give your honest thoughts on it. Ahhh /hides in shyness/. Thanks for your patience and please leave a comment so I know I'm doing okay.

**_T/W for mentions of sexual abuse, very graphic violence, and details of slicing open wrists. Please do not read if this may harm you in anyway._ **

**Chapter 5**

Birds sung their morning song as the sun slowly begun to rise above the horizon. The wind blew a gentle breeze, taking leaves and dirt captive with it. The long grass surrounding the house danced in the wind, mesmerising any onlooker. Harry watched from the table in the kitchen, the sun beginning to swallow the tree line in the far distance. A sense of serenity settled over him while the information from early this morning sunk in. Suddenly a yellow envelope was slapped down on the table in front of him. Harry simply turned his head in reaction, seeing a smirking Drew standing next to him.

"Thought this might be right up your alley," Drew said before turning around and busying himself in the kitchen.

Harry curiously looked at his back and then down at the folder sitting before him. His inquisitive nature getting the better of him. Picking it up and tipping it upside-down, a pile of neat paper slid on to the table. The first page held a picture of the Requester's target plus all of their personal information. His eyes roamed the page briefly, catching different intriguing words, before he decided to start reading from the start. A picture of a middle aged man staring blankly ahead at the camera, dressed in a pristine police uniform. Medals and badges pinned on him, showing off his achievements.

"Steven Riggs," Harry murmured out loud. "Let's see what you've done to seal your fate."

_Steven Riggs is a 49 year old, Caucasian male with a heritage of primarily English. Currently lives alone close to his current place of occupation. No known family relations expect for an estranged mother he has not had contact with since he was fourteen. Her name is Mary Sherlock. He has served his whole adult life in the police force, climbing up the ranks. Steven has no known medical conditions, reasonably healthy. Connection to the Magical World: None._

"Ah okay, I see now," Harry smirked up at Drew who was approaching the table with a cup of tea and some plain toast. The cases with no connection to the magical world were his favourite ones.

"Keep reading," Drew responded. "It gets better."

_Requester has solid evidence of Steven Riggs successfully bribing judges to benefit or worsen the court case with the use of money and illegal substances. Many of these bribes are in relation to sexual assault cases as well as drug charges. Not only has he bribed judges, but he has bribed other police officers in to silence with the use of money and illegal substances. Many of these bribes are in relation to others looking in to his suspicious behaviour or finding him in the act of stealing detained substances._

"Corrupt piece of shit," Harry growled.

"Obviously you haven't gotten to the juicy part, otherwise I would've been hearing more of a select type of vocabulary," he said around a mouthful of toast, a cheeky grin on his face. Harry gave him an annoyed look before continuing to read on.

_Requester has solid evidence of Steven Riggs sexually assaulting woman in the form of polaroid pictures. It is known that he keeps all evidence in a grey metal box, hidden behind books on the third shelf down on the bookshelf closest to the television. The Requester wants Steven Riggs to die a slow and painful death. It is requested that the assassin lay all of the photos out next to his body for police officers to find. Inside the rest of the documents are blueprints of his house, maps of the surrounding areas, the evidence the Requester has found, as well as a photo of all the target's tattoos. The reward for a successful mission is reasonably large._

Harry sighed tiredly as he begun to peruse the rest of the documents. Like the Requester had said, there was indeed all that information for him to read through. This was more detail than most people ever went in to. He was thoroughly impressed. Half of his mind wondered who the hell this person was while the other half wondered why they just didn't kill this guy themselves. Obviously they weren't confident they would get away with it. Hence why Harry, Drew and the rest of the group were there for. To kill the bad people that tormented the world, to reap the rewards, and to get that sweet revenge for the victims. This case didn't seem that hard. For the most part, half of his work had already been done. Now all he had to do was study the man's schedule and kill him.

"Interested?" Drew's voice brought Harry out of his thinking.

"Yeah," Harry nodded before placing the documents down and looking out the window.

"Think of it as your last official mission before you leave for Hogwarts," he smiled and took a sip of his drink.

"Hopefully it won't be my last one forever," he sighed.

"Of course it won't," Drew reassured him. "You'll be able to come back on the team once this is all over."

Harry barely registered the words, nodding his head and staring out in to the stirring world outside. For the first time in a long time, he was beginning to feel anxious over the future. Here, in this farm-styled house far away from society, he had lived the best life imaginable. He always had a roof over his head, a family to rely on, food in his stomach, and money he could call his own in his pocket. While he would have food and a roof over his head at Hogwarts, the other two were up in the air. Nothing was promised as he got ready to embark on the most riskiest mission of his life.

"There's less than a week to my birthday which will give me ample amount of time to commit his schedule to memory," Harry sighed as he turned his attention back to the present. "The eve of my birthday is when I'll strike."

"Are you sure?" Drew asked, already knowing Harry was set in his way.

"Yes. I've got a lot of prep for the next day with you know, getting revenge on the Dursley's and getting ready to leave for Hogwarts and all that," he mused with a dark, playful smile on his face.

Drew merely nodded in acknowledgement. He knew and trusted Harry enough to look after himself. Everything he had taught him over the years was finally beginning to show. All of the life lessons, work ethics, becoming a self-sustained man was all shining through the once scared young boy he took in. As he sipped his drink and watched Harry stare blankly out the window, an intense wave of proudness bubbled up in the middle of his chest.

**> _< >_< >_<**

The door to Dumbledore's office suddenly swung open and startled the old man whom sat behind his desk reading over documentation. Order member after Order member waltzed in to the office, the space soon becoming cramped. Dumbledore looked confused at the unexpected assemble of the group. The whole atmosphere that radiated from them was anger and upset, he knew this was not going to be a very pleasant meeting. Especially considering the unannounced visit.

"Well this is unexpected. What can I do for you all?" Dumbledore tried to cover his true emotions by smiling and forcing a kind twinkle in his eyes.

"Some of us have problems with the way things are being handled," Minerva spoke up as she stepped forward in front of the group. "We would like to talk about a few things."

"Of course," he politely said as he sat tall in his chair. Rage bubbling under the surface.

"Last night," she said after a few seconds, "an alarm went off indicating we needed to be called to the Dursley's residence under the impression they were in harm's way by intruders. But after arriving, we found they were not."

Dumbledore thought about what he was hearing and opened his mouth to respond. He knew this was coming. He saw the annoyance they tried to conceal the other night. He saw the looks of anger they tried to hide from him. It was only a matter of time and last night was the final straw.

"Yes, well you see," Dumbledore stumbled over his words a little before clearing his throat. "I have put in place wards to alert us if they are in danger. Wards that generally are meant for alerting if it is a foreign person they do not know of that is causing them harm. However, sometimes the fear is so great that the wards are triggered by a case of domestic dispute within the household."

"Are you meaning to tell us this has happened before?" Arthur said with a frown on his face.

"Only on rare occasions has this occurred," he nodded his head slowly.

The room erupted in a fit of rage. To think they had wasted the Order's time with this episode of domestic violence instead of resting or searching for the missing boy infuriated many of them. This was the exact scenario that they had feared would happen, especially when it was during the middle of the night. The anger at the way things were being handled, the way they were being instructed, didn't sit well with the group anymore. They wanted change and they wanted it now.

"But I must assure you that the ward that was activated last night felt like a third party," Dumbledore spoke loudly above the noise, trying to reign in the group. "That is why I was very surprised when we saw what had happened upon arrival."

"While I must concur this level of domestic dispute has never occurred, the false alarm has been rung on one too many times in my honest opinion," Severus spoke up from the side of the room, turning heads. "Many of those incidents happened while Harry Potter was in their care however, and perished since he went missing. Leaving me to believe he was left in an unfit living arrangement."

With mouth wide open in disbelief, Dumbledore stared at his least most trusted member of staff. The bustling room quickly diminished into a shocked silenced. With cheeks turning rosy red and the twinkle leaving icy blue eyes, the Headmaster stood up slowly from his chair. The room looked on in fear as the old man walked towards them, eyes locked on Severus Snape.

"Are you doubting my judgement, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, staring daggers at the other.

"Yes," Severus said without any hesitation.

"Have I ever once doubted you," he went on to say, anger quickly filling up inside him. "In all of these years, have I ever once not trusted you?"

"I do not know," Severus said truthfully after contemplating for a second.

"What do you mean?" all kindness void in his voice and eyes. "Have I took you back after your acts of betrayal? Have I not offered you a job in a world that would have shunned you? Have I not been anything but kind too you?"

The room was in completely and utter shock. While they were all acutely aware of Severus's past and how he has tried everything to right his wrongs, they didn't once imagine the Headmaster would try and turn that against the man. Severus averted his eyes to look out the window. Shame was looming over him like a heavy cloud. If he didn't have such complete control over his emotions, he would have stormed off angrily. Instead he was going to passively stay for the rest of the meeting, not contributing anything more, but not let the old coot win.

"That's what I thought," Dumbledore said quietly with a smirk, before looking around at the others. "Now, is there any other issues so I may get back to work. There are many Hogwarts letters still to be sent."

"I believe we will make no more headway with the way things are," Minerva said as she looked around the tense room. "I think it's best we all go home and rest. I can tell how tired some of you are. We can discuss this at another time."

"Yes, perhaps a scheduled meeting next time would be better," Dumbledore laughed, the twinkle returning once more.

One by one, the room slowly emptied. The mood amongst the Order members was one of grim defeat. They had not achieved much of what they had hoped for. Though to some, it was not surprising with the way the Headmaster had managed to deflect the topic off of himself by the end. However, what did take them by surprise was the way he was treating Severus. It was a vindictive side to him they didn't see at all. His old age must be showing off the cracks in his many layers.

**> _< >_< >_<**

The quite streets were filled with thin, two storey houses, lined up side by side. With tiny backyards and only fences separating the land at the front and back, this was a true English styled street. It may propose a challenge for the young man sitting on the bench opposite his next victims house. The walls between each house would be rather thin, so ensuring the victim couldn't scream was rather important. Entering and leaving the house would be rather easy with the cover of darkness on his side. The street lamps were placed vastly apart, and the moon light was rather dim in the overcast night sky. His all black clothing would also contribute to successfully hiding his appearance.

With his hood hanging low over his face, Harry continued to stay alert on the bench as he waited for Steven Riggs to come home from his shift at work. The minutes ticked by slowly, yet the young man never twitched a muscle. He trained himself to stay perfectly still to avoid drawing attention his way from any possible onlookers. His eyes moved to the left side as a car turned in to the end of the street. He watched as it slowly manoeuvred through the heavily parked traffic, before pulling up in to a spare spot not far from the target's house.

The noisy engine was shut off and silence engulfed the street once more. A second later, the door swung open and out came a tall male, dressed in a pristine uniform. He knew instantly this was his target; Steven Riggs. The male stretched his tired body before grabbing his briefcase and coat from the back seat. Harry watched intently as the target begun to finally walk towards his home, taking his sweet arse time. Steven tiredly locked his car over his shoulder as he fumbled with his keys at his front door.

The door was opened finally and the man stumbled blindly inside the completely dark house until he reached the light switch. Harry immediately stood up from his spot, walking across the street with his head down. He briefly paused as he saw Steven walk towards the open front door to close it. Shaking his head slightly, he watched the man yawn before lazily shutting it. Continuing to walk, he quickly makes his way to the closest window. Hugging his body to the wall, he peered in to the still dining room. Seeing no sign of Steven, Harry quickly scoped out the rest of the place from where he could see. A brightly lit kitchen was in the far back and the entrance hall to the left of the room showed the bottom of the stair case.

Harry took three long strides to reach the other window. Again, he hugged his body to the wall in case his target was suddenly to appear. He turned his head slightly and gazed upon a quiet living room. Mismatched furniture was spread out along the walls, dimly lit lighting created soft shadows, an ominous bookcase looming tall, hiding a very dark secret inside. The hairs on Harry's arms stand straight just looking at where the hidden photos were. This was one of the sickest cases he had dealt with in quite a while. No doubt this will give him much pleasure to end this sicko's life.

With that in mind, Harry moved towards the door, ready to execute his plan. He held his hand up and nonverbally unlocked the door. He pushed it open slowly, revealing the neatly kept entrance hall. He spotted the briefcase next to the hallstand while the coat hung on a rack not far away. Nudging the door closed with his foot, Harry intently stared upstairs where he could see a bedroom light on. He could hear Steven softly humming to himself as he changed out of his uniform. A dark smirk overcoming his facial features just anticipating the startled look he would have once noticing an intruder.

As if right on cue, Steven emerged out of his bedroom dressed in a baggy, white t-shirt and plain, grey sweatpants. He rubbed his face tiredly as he begun to descend the stairs, only to freeze as his eyes laid upon a figure standing in his house. Blinking to see if the darkly dressed figure would disappear, he shook his head in confusion.

"What are you doing here?" Steven asked after the silence continued on. "Get out of my house."

Harry was smirking up at his target, soaking in the face of a scared man. Without saying anything, he released his wand from its holster and caught it smoothly with his hand. Feeling the adrenaline start to kick in, he focused his mind on the mission. His dark, green electric eyes stared unwavering into Steven's worried brown eyes. The two men stood still, waiting for the best moment to make the first move. Steven briefly glanced down at the protruding wand, a look of confusion flashing across his face for only the briefest of moments. And in the next second he begun to rush down the stairs, straight towards Harry.

"Stupefy," Harry whispered as he raised his wand, pointing it directly at Steven's chest.

The man instantly froze, becoming unconscious in mid-step. His limp body falling forwards and tumbled down the remaining steps. Harry would have winced if he cared for the man when he heard a loud cracking sound as Steven's face went directly into one of the steps with full force. Steven came to land awkwardly with the half of his body folded over, legs spread out in mid-air, his own crotch smashed against his unconscious, bloodied face.

Harry walked up to the man as he put away his wand once more, enjoying the sight that lay before his eyes. It was painfully obvious the victim had broken his nose on the way down, a small stream of dark, crimson blood coming out from the now crocked nose. Not wanting to touch the man more than he had to, Harry unravelled the limp body by pushing his lower half with his foot. He unconsciously scowled at having the misfortune of touching him. With Steven now laying completely flat at the foot of the stairs, Harry looked around in thought, wondering what he should do next.

Walking in to the living room, he decided to grab the photos now rather than later. At least he could avoid leaving the man unattended as to not give him a chance of escaping. Without hesitation, Harry made his way over to the bookcase closest to the television and scanned his eyes down to the third shelf. Compared to the other bookcase in this room, all of the books were close to the edge, whereas the books on the other were all pushed as far back as they could go. If Harry hadn't know what was hiding behind all of these books, he would have probably inspected it out of curiosity.

His stomach begun to churn as he reached forward, blindly feeling behind the books for the metal box. His fingers graced over a cold surface, signifying he had in fact found what he was looking for. Carefully pulling out the item, his eyes laid upon a dull grey box with a small, metal lock on it. He inspected the outside of the box to find nothing giving away the horror that laid within. Not wasting anymore time, Harry walked back over to the semi-unconscious male sprawled out on the ground.

As Harry once again stood over Steven, the other slowly begun to regain some consciousness. His eyes opened and closed, adjusting to the harsh lighting after the fall. He begun to moan and mumble, trying to find his voice once more. Wiggling his fingers and toes, Steven tried to fight through the heavily fog clouding his mind to figure out where he currently was. Harry continued to smirk down at the other, a large amount of satisfaction bubbling in his chest. Lifting his hand, he faced his palm directly at Steven.

He casted a nonverbal ' _Incarcerous_ ' just as Steven begun to look around at his surroundings. Thin ropes shot from his palm and coiled tightly around the lean body, rendering him completely immobile. Fear and panic set in on Steven's face, trying his best to escape from the confinements he found himself in. He looked up at the stranger that stood in his house, his face clouded in darkness from the hood he wore. He tried to soak up as much of this person as he could, committing details to memory in the case that he survived this home invasion. That's when he noticed the grey, metal box the person held in his hand.

"How did you get that?" Steven managed to rasp out, letting his head rest on the ground and staring at the celling in defeat.

"This old thing?" Harry darkly laughed as he gracefully squatted down next to the other's head. "Why I was told to come and get it."

"By who?" he frowned as he rolled his head to the side slightly, able to see the lower half of the face now.

"That is for me to know," he smirked darkly, sending shivers down Steven's body, "and for you to never find out."

Steven stared up at the stranger in bewilderment. The voice sounded so young, yet very menacing. The darkness that seeped off of him was clearly a well-built aura, formed over many years. It made him shiver just thinking of all the other heinous crimes he might have committed while still being so young. He seemed so comfortable and confident in what he was doing, eerily so. Every move he made was precise, almost as if he had planned out every moment in a detailed plan.

"What do you want from me," Steven asked in a tired voice, resigned to the situation already.

"I do not want anything from you," Harry smirked. "However, there is someone out there that wants one thing from you."

Without hesitation, Harry held up both his hands in front of him. Nonverbally opening the metal lock with an ' _Alohomora_ ', much to the dismay and shock of Steven. Harry pulled off the lock and discarded it to the side, smirking the whole time at the stunned expression stuck firmly on his victim's face.

"H-How did you do that?" Steven's wide eyes watched in confusion.

Completing ignoring the man, Harry carefully opened the grey lid, his eyes laying upon dozens of polaroid pictures that made him sick to the bottom of his gut. He flicked his eyes over to Steven as the man groaned in embarrassment, gulping hard in an effort to fight back the fowl words wanting to spill out.

"Now, what do we have here?" Harry hummed, sorting through some of the pictures. "Well, I can't say I am surprised. I knew what I would find in here."

"Just take them and leave me alone," he tried to beg. "Please, I just want to go to bed. I don't care what you do with them."

Tsking his tongue, Harry stood up and begun to slowly pace around his tied up victim. Watching the older squirm as his very presence made him feel uncomfortable. He took out a few photos and let them fall down to rest beside his head, Steven watching them in half curiosity and half fear. Harry walked to the other side and took out a few more photos, letting them fall once more.

"No, no, no," Harry hummed in disappointment. "No that won't do at all."

Harry squatted down where he stood, placing the grey, metal box to the side before placing his hands either side of Steven's head and leaning forwards. He leant right in, too close for the other's comfort as he turned his head away from the invasive action. He let his warm breath graze over his victim's skin, watching in satisfaction as the other squirmed away from him.

"No," Harry seductively whispered. "No I won't take them and leave. The world must know what you did. You must pay the price for your actions."

"What's my price?" Steven asked with a heavy gulp, dreading the answer.

"Your life," he whispered lowly before immediately pushing away from his victim.

"No," he begged in a cry, a blush appearing on his cheeks at the ungodly sound that just escaped him. "No, please. I'll do anything. Just let me live."

Harry's deep laughed reverberated around the rather empty entrance hallway. He shook his head in amusement as his ears were filled with the sweet sounds of continuous begs of salvation. Wanting to toy with the man some more, he grabbed his Blackhawk Tatang knife out of its sheath, resting the tip of the knife on his pointer finger and swirling it around. Steven groaned once more, wiggling desperately around to attempt to free himself from the ropes.

"Now, I'll tell you what will happen next," Harry spoke up as he was pacing backwards and forwards at Steven's feet. "I don't normally tell my victims this, but considering it'll be my last mission for a while, why not tell you your fate."

Laughing darkly as Steven's face sunk, a mixture of horror and desperation overtaking his facial features. Harry pointed his knife downwards, lining up with his victim's chest. He stopped pacing as he stood slightly to the left of him.

"Firstly I will ensure no one can hear you scream as what I'll be doing will be very, very painful," he continued on as if it was a normal everyday conversation. "Next, I'll start slicing and dicing. I'll make sure I get creative, don't you worry my kind sir. Lastly, once you have gone to sleep like you wanted, I'll lay out all of these photos around you so whoever finds you first understands why this happened. Your _disgusting_ secret will be shared with the world. Your name will forever be tarnished. All you worked for in your career will be stripped."

As Harry finished talking, he walked back over to Steven's head and squatted down beside him. He crushed one of the photos with his boot on purpose, symbolising how the predator was about to become the victim. He watched as a stray tear ran down the blemished cheek and down to the floor. Part of him wanted to mess with the other by wiping it away for him. He reached forward, seeing the other wince at his approach, and with the tip of his knife, he wiped the stray tear away. Making sure to get up close and personal with his eye.

"Please," Steven tried to beg one last time, his voice weak and body tired.

Instead of responding, Harry merely stood up and allowed his wand to slip down into his hand once more. He pointed his wand down at Steven, watching the intense fear ignite in his eyes. Harry took a deep breath before moving his wand smoothly in the correct motion. He focused on casting the very difficult spell ' _Silencio_ ' nonverbally. Mustering all his magic since he would have time to recover before leaving.

Steven felt a tingling sensation engulf his entire body. Wondering what had just happened to him, he opened his mouth to ask. Yet he found his vocal cords wouldn't work. He attempted to speak after another second, hoping it was just fatigue. Nothing. Nothing came out of his throat. He tried to hum, to clear his throat, to shout, to yell. He started hyperventilating. What had happened? What had this young man done to him? His world spun as he watched the other lean over and trail the tip of his knife along the exposed skin on his foot.

"Where should we start, hmmm?" Harry asked, knowing full well that he'll get no response. "Maybe here?"

Moving the tip of the knife, he dragged it up along Steven's left leg, running over the thin ropes holding him in place. He came to a stop right next to his pelvis, sweat pouring down his victim's face as he saw where the knife was. Harry smirked before retracting the knife and watching the wide brown eyes.

"How about we save that for last," he smirked as he stood up and walked closer to his top half.

Harry watched Steven squirm as he moved to stand over him, one leg either side of his torso. He knelt down and sat firmly on the man's stomach. He could feel the panicked breathing underneath him, see the uncomfortableness on his face. Harry smirked as he slowly leant forwards, sliding his hands up his chest and over the tight ropes. Pausing briefly, he adjusted his grip on his knife before he moved the rope to bunch up on his shoulders as well as down towards his stomach, leaving space for his chest to be exposed. With the tip of his Tatang knife, he gripped the white t-shirt and tore it open vertically. He revealed the pale white chest after ripping the shirt some more.

Dragging the cold, metal knife along the hairless chest, he watched as goosebumps rose. He ran it along the skin, inching closer and closer to the exposed right nipple. Smirking, he tapped the semi-hard nipple with his knife, watching it get even harder. Steven wiggled beneath him, trying his best to get away from the knife. He was shouting words at Harry, banging his head backwards in frustration.

"Excited are we?" Harry teased, tapping the other nipple brutally as to not leave it out of the fun.

Steven violent shook his head in denial making Harry let out a roaring laugh. He continued torturing him for a few more seconds before he frowned and tilted his head, deep in thought about what he wanted to be carved into Steven's chest. It couldn't be too long, or too short. It needed to fit him, needed to describe the type of person he was. Perhaps predator will do? Or leech. Maybe even deadbeat. Parasite might suit him. Harry thought some more, none of them sitting right with him. Then the perfect word came to mind. Scum. Yes, that wasn't too short or long, and described Steven absolutely _perfectly_.

Dragging the knife to the left of the chest, Harry poised the tip with ample amount of pressure while pushing down Steven's shoulder with his left hand. Keeping him still seemed to be an issue, the bastard was constantly wriggling around. He didn't want his work to come out messy, yet he really needed to get a move on. Without further delay, he pushed the knife down enough to slightly pierce the firm skin. Blood pooled around the black, metal blade, moving in different directions with the thrashing from Steven. Harry tried to keep the man as still as he could as he begun moving the knife to form the first letter. The look of pure agony on his face only cheered him on, making the slightly messy letter worth it. This mother fucker deserved all the pain in the world.

One letter at a time, Harry slow etched the word scum into Steven's chest. Blood seeping out, rolling down his sides in rivers. Oh how Harry wished he could hear the screams, how he wished he could show all of Steven's victims the memory to know he suffered just as much as they did. Before he could even finished carving out the 'm', his victim passed out presumably from the pain. Rolling his eyes in slight annoyance, Harry peacefully completed his masterpiece. He didn't know how long Steven would be out for, so he decided to do the tricky spot on him that he wanted to tarnish.

Shuffling up ever so slightly and being mindful of not getting blood on himself, Harry firmly held Steven's face in his left hand. Not even hesitating, he sank the bloodied knife into the left cheek and sliced it apart. Creating line after line, blemish after blemish, justice after justice for each victim. The face he held between his hand slowly become unrecognisable. Covered in blood, bruised, and torn open for all to see, this was the fate he had sealed long ago.

Harry stood up from where he knelt, slightly stretching his aching muscles. He looked down from where he stood and admired the work he had done thus far. There was not much more work he needed to do before he could clean up and leave. Majority of his plan had gone accordingly, very satisfied with the results, but he was still looking forward to the next part the most. What's one thing a male predator wants/needs to abuse others? A full functioning penis. Frankly Harry thought this man didn't deserve to have one. He was going to correct that, and painfully so, unfortunately for Steven and fortunately for the rest of mankind.

Finally, his victim started to come around back to reality. It was almost as if he had forgotten where he was as he looked around for a few moments in utter confusion. Well, as much as his facial features could convey that now. Steven started frantically wiggling around, trying his best to loosen the ropes around him. Yet his efforts turned out futile. He simply stared up at the man looming above him, hoping whatever was next would end him there and then.

"Welcome back," Harry chuckled as he took a few steps backwards, with legs still either side of Steven. "I'm glad you are joining me for this next part. We are going to have so much fun."

Harry knelt down yet again. This time he straddled his upper thighs with the most devilish smile on his face. He reached up and moved the ropes away from the vicinity he needed to get to; the pelvic area. Harry traced his knife down the left hip bone, then the right, relishing in the desperate writhing beneath him. He brushed over the slightly bump in the grey pants, watching his chest rise and fall hurried motions. The torture continuing on for as long as he pleased, knowing it'll all be over soon enough. Pulling down the grey sweatpants, Harry was disgusted at the sight that lay before his eyes. The most despicable, ugly looking, below average sized penis stared back at him.

"Disgusting," Harry pretend to gag, instantly smirking as Steven looked devastated and embarrassed.

Not wanting to touch the horrendous piece of flesh more than he had to, he lifted up the limp penis with the blade of his knife. He tucked the grey sweatpants underneath the penis to keep them out of the way, giving him full access to the member without disruption. Staring at it for one more moment, Harry chuckled out loud as he thought of how this was the ugliest penis he had ever seen in his life. He studied it, tilting his head, deciding which direction he would start cutting from. He needed to ensure that Steven had an amazing view of the show. Mind made up, Harry harshly gripped on to the penis, tugging it upwards. Harry made sure his victim was looking before he started.

Fearful eyes looked upon his pride and joy, knowing what was about to take place. The bloodied blade of the knife inched closer and closer to the base of his penis, anticipation thick in the air as it seemingly moved in slow motion. The warm surface finally made contact with his delicate skin. He gulped down the heavy amount of saliva in his mouth. A searing pain like he had never felt before started burning as the knife was pushed forwards and backwards in a slicing motion. Steven wanted his screams to so desperately be heard. He wanted someone to come to his rescue and end it all. Wanted this moment to finish as quickly as it started.

Harry smirked as he continued to saw off the offending member, grunting slightly with all the thick parts. Blood spurted everywhere, his hands, the floor, as well as soaked into both of their clothes. As each second ensured, Steven became more and more restless. He was arching his back, bucking his hips, kicking his hips, thrashing side to side, all in an attempt to make it stop. It was making Harry's job harder, however, knowing the pain his victim would have been experiencing made it bearable. He assumed it wouldn't be much longer until he passed out from the pain once more.

Grunting and applying extra pressure, Harry managed to successfully sever and decapitate the entire penis from its owner. He held the member up in the air, blood still dripping from it, and held it for the both of them to see. He inspected the cut and was quite impressed with his skills; it was a rather clean slice considering other factors such as uncontrollable movements. He lowered the penis only to notice Steven was one again unconscious. The shock of seeing his penis removed must have pushed him over the edge this time rather than the pain. He simply discarded the penis to lay vertical on the pelvic area before standing up.

There wasn't much more to do. He had caused as much damage as he could to his victim, he had tortured him both physically and psychologically to a suitable amount. All he needed to do to complete his mission was ensure a slow death. He tapped the tip of his Blackhawk Tatang knife on his left hand palm as he thought. Knowing the anatomy of a male, cutting of the penis would not cause enough blood lost to kill Steven. Neither would all the cuts and wounds he had inflicted elsewhere. No, he needed to make another cut somewhere else near a major artery. Perhaps the wrists would do. If he made a deep cut on each inner forearm, he could ensure enough blood loss to kill the man.

Nodding in satisfaction with his new plan, Harry leant down to roughly grabbed Steven's right arm. He barely managed to rotate it enough in the tight grasp of the ropes. He placed the tip of the blade halfway up the forearm before digging it in and easily slicing a deep cut into the skin. Massive amounts of blood immediately poured out from the cut, seeping on to the floor and staining it a deep crimson colour. Knowing he was almost done, Harry swiftly repeated the same action on the left forearm. He stood up and wiped the slight sweat away from his forehead.

Stepping back and placing his knife back into its sheath, Harry took in all of his work as a whole. Satisfaction bubbled below the surface, hoping this was more than enough for the Requester. Keen to go home and shower, Harry hurriedly grabbed the grey metal box that had long been discarded. He spread out the pictures around Steven's head and limp body. Even laying a few beneath the word carved into his chest and one upon the exposed base of his penis, blood quickly soaking the edges. Discarding the box to the side, Harry sighed as he got ready to leave.

"Wait," a small croak alerted him to the semi-conscious Steven laying tiredly still. "Please, don't go."

"Silencio," Harry said with a frown on his face, not expecting the spell to have worn off so soon.

The spell didn't take as much energy as beforehand since he said it verbally, taking some strain off of his magical core. Harry watched as Steven tried to talk once more before stray tears slipped down his blemished face. An understanding dawned upon the victim that he was going to soon slip away to never breathe again. Resignation filled his eyes as he turned his head away from his torturer, not wanting him to be the last thing he saw. Instead choosing to look at one of the many polaroid picture sprawled out beside him.

Harry quickly patted down his body, ensuring he had every piece of equipment with him before he left. He turned and opened the door with a nonverbal ' _Alohomora_ ', using his shoe to close the door behind him. Not looking back, he continued walking away from the house, heading directly to the bench he had previously been sitting on. He sat down and in the quiet of the night, begun removing all traces that he had even been in or near that house. He removed his DNA that had been spread everywhere, off of items as well as Steven's body. He concentrated on erasing any footprints that may have been ingrained into the carpet or anywhere near the crime scene. Lastly, he recalled his magical residue. The process taking a little longer since he had performed more magic here.

Satisfied he was completely annihilated from the crime scene and surrounding area, Harry stood up and begun to walk down the cold, empty, dark street. With each step he took, he felt even more so grateful that this was his last mission. He couldn't think of a better way to pause his career on. And with that came the reminder that in two nights time, he would be heading off to the Dursley's and then to Hogwarts. Embarking on a new mission, one to save the world, one to save many lives. Rounding the corner, Harry closed his eyes tiredly as he concentrated on apparating.

The environment around him changed. He was no longer outside in the cold, but rather inside a warm house filled with soft sounds of laughter and chatter. He opened his eyes and looked to his right to find most of the household occupants gathered in the lounge room and kitchen. Pulling his hood down for the first time in hours, Harry stared tiredly at the onlookers. Grayson stood up from his spot on the couch, his mouth hanging open in shock at the state that Harry was in.

"Bloody hell mate," Grayson said in amazement. "Quite literally bloody."

"Not really in the mood, Gray," Harry let out a massive yawn as he stretched his arms above his head.

Harry turned his head as Drew descended the stairs, watching as the older looked him up and down in amusement. Drew came down to stand directly in front of the shorter, inspecting him for any signs of injury. Thus finding nothing and deducting it was all simply the target's blood.

"Had fun, did we?" Drew asked in his low, thick, Scottish accent.

"It was quite splendid," Harry rolled his eyes. "Let me shower first. Then I'll come up and give you a report."

Drew shook his head as he walked in to the kitchen, nodding to the people that acknowledged his presence. He lent down in to the fridge, seeking his meal he had put aside.

"Don't bother giving me a report until you've had dinner," Drew said loudly, causing everyone in the room to chuckle.

With a blush on his face, Harry simply turned and headed up to his bedroom. Drew always found a way to embarrass him whether intentional or not. He closed the door to his bathroom and immediately started to strip down his equipment and blood soaked clothes. Turning on the taps, he waited for the water system to warm up by thoroughly checking over his body with the aid of the mirror above the sink. He sighed in contention once he found no grazes on himself, or bruises that would develop. He couldn't wait, however, to rid himself of the slightly dried blood forming on his face, neck, arms and hands. Dreading having to clean down his equipment and fearing he might have to chuck his clothes away as he stood under the refreshingly warm stream of water.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know y'all have been waiting for a new chapter. So I tried to do this as quickly as I could with everything going on. I love you all so much! Thank you for being so amazing and so supportive <3 Your comments make me want to cry each and every time. Enjoy <3

**Chapter 6**

Harry slowly started waking up from his deep sleep. The sun streaming in through his curtainless window, blinding his vision as he looked around his quite room. Today was his 16th birthday, a day he never really enjoyed much thanks to his childhood. He knew that downstairs were a small pile of presents from the people that dared give him a gift as well as a pre-made birthday breakfast fir the household. In all honesty, Harry wanted to delay going down there for as long as possible. The attention he received always felt weird despite the many years he had been through it.

With a deep sigh, Harry throwed the covers off of him and sat up on the side of his bed. He sat there for a few more seconds, basking in the early morning coldness broken up by the warm sunlight. The dull contents of the room came in to focus as his eyes finally started adjusting from sleep. Harry finally pushed his tired body off of his bed, stretching his joints and muscles before making his way directly to his private bathroom. Turning the taps of his shower on, he firstly unfastened his wand holster and calf holster and placed them on the bathroom sink. He then begun to get undressed from his pyjamas, a plain grey t-shirt and short grey pants, and discarded them in to the clothes hamper in the corner of the bathroom.

As the water slowly warmed up in the cold morning air, Harry stared at his naked body in the mirror above the sink. His smooth, slightly tanned skin was flawless, barely a mark to be found. Strongly built frame with well-defined muscles from all of the workouts. He was neither short, nor tall, but rather average height. A healthy diet and healthy lifestyle helped him overcome the short spell he had from when he had lived with the Dursleys. Thinking back on how he was treated on his birthday, Harry clenched his fists in anger. He imagined if he was still living with them, he would look very underweight and the short complex would have continued.

Harry didn’t want to linger on what could have been, so he turned his attention back to the present, turning around and hopping in to the steamy shower. Warm water flowed down his body, instantly relaxing him. Breathing in and out through his mouth as he just stood there in silence, not even a thought floating through his mind. Goosebumps rose on his arms at the calming sensation. Seconds turning into minutes, slowly waking his sleepy mind.

Harry grabbed the bottle of shampoo, pouring a small amount into his palm as the sweet scent of strawberry filled the air. He stepped out of the stream of the water as he thoroughly rubbed the liquid into his short, messy hair, massaging it into his scalp. Ducking his head under the water, he washed out the soapy shampoo and wiping his face clean of any residue. He decided against conditioning his hair today, instead planning on doing it tomorrow. He turned off the water before he grabbed the body wash. Pouring a large amount in his hand, he lathered up his entire body with the fruity smelling liquid.

His hands ran over every inch of his body, the liquid being rubbed in to make sure he was completely rid of any dirty. Hands ran over smooth skin as strong muscles flexed and contracted under his touch. For a moment, Harry allowed himself to close his eyes and imagined it was someone else he was touching, yearning for someone to be there when he opened his eyes. Sighing to himself, he quickly finished lathering himself up before turning the water back on and ridding himself of that unfathomable desire. He knew full well that he would probably never find someone, someone to share his life with, share his aspirations with, share his worries with.

Taking his sweet arse time, he lingered underneath the warm water, not wanting to get out. Yet he knew the day waited for him to move on. Turning the taps off, Harry stood still for a few seconds to allow the water to drip off of him. Opening the door, he stepped out into the misty room. The warm air from his shower steaming up the entire bathroom. Holding out his arm, he summoned a towel to him from his clean pile. Making quick work of drying himself down, Harry dried his hair before hanging the towel around his lean shoulders.

Harry wiped some of the mist away from the mirror, finding bright green eyes staring back at him. Lifting up his damp hair from his forehead, he stared directly at the faintest scar shaped in a lighting scar. He traced his finger over the scar, thinking back on the memories of how it got to this point. When he had come into Drew’s care, the older noticed small little signs that something wasn’t right with Harry’s magical core. Something was lurking within that was draining his magical core, something that was dark and dangerous. Through one of his many connections in the wizarding world, he was able to discover two different, very old, branches of magic had been used on the night of his parent’s death; a sacrificial protection and an accidental creation of a Horcrux.

Together, him and Drew gathered a small team to research as much as possible into these ancient forms of magic. They took notes on the history of any documented cases where a sacrificial protection was used. Many hours were spent going through parchments, some took months to translate from other languages. But one thing they had seen in all of the cases were the long lasting benefits for the person being protected. It was a very common occurrence that the murderer could not touch the protected without experiencing unbearable pain. There were even some cases where if the murderer tried to cast any spell on the protected once the sacrificial protection was in place, it would simply rebound back to the caster.

Moments of that fateful night flashed in front of his eyes. For a second he was transported back in time as the shouts of his father trying to fend off Voldemort for as long as possible. The hurried scrabbling of his mother as she prepared for the inevitable. Soft whispers of reassurance from his mother filled his ears. Telling him his is loved, to be strong, to be safe. The loud explosion rang piercingly throughout the room, protected from shrapnel by his mother’s body as the door was blasted to smithereens. Numb words fell upon his ears as he watched Voldemort face his mother. The scene slowed down in front of his eyes as the green curse flew towards his mother, her life instantly draining from her body.

It was the next moments that would forever define his life, his existence, his fate. Voldemort turned his wand on Harry, no remorse in the cold eyes. The green curse leaving the wand for it to only engulf the entire room as it rebounded. In that moment, a part of Voldemort’s already utterly fractured soul, once more split and attached itself to him. Those actions leading him to be the first known ‘Human Horcrux’ in history. From that moment on, Harry lived with a piece of Voldemort within him. Harbouring it for years to come until the fatefully encounter with Drew. The older making it a priority to purge the dark, foreign soul from the scared, young boy he took in. He openly made it his mission to shelter the younger from the impending war until he was properly healed and properly trained.

It had been just over ten years since Drew and his wonderful team of people had successful removed and transferred the soul fragment out of him. Harry’s magical core healing the scar over the years, each year it diminished in visibility until it was barely detectable. Not only had they discovered the piece of Voldemort had been draining his magical core, but they realised his mind had been tainted. He was infected by strange dreams and hissing sounds, memories and feelings that didn’t feel like his own. That’s when Drew had realised that his connection with Voldemort ran deeper than just a piece of soul within him.

Harry had inherited abilities from harbouring a foreign soul fragment within him. He was able to access the mind of Voldemort at any time, more so when he was in a relaxed environment. It aided him in the process of learning both Occlumency as well as Legilimency. Having that pre-existing exposure to know what it feels like to have an intruder in his mind. In having his magical core drained, it only helped him strengthen his core, learning to expand his power. Before the soul fragment was removed, he practised on building up a powerful core, stronger than any other young wizard out there.

While he may have lost the ability to access his enemy’s mind, not that he was complaining, he thankfully did not lose the unique ability to communicate in Parseltongue. Why that was a surprise to everyone that had been a part of the extraction process, Harry was thankful he didn’t lose the ability. At the end of the day, he saw it as just another advantage he had over people. Not only in his line of work, but in the looming war. Continuing to practice regularly as to not get sloppy. Over time he figured out and understood how he could quickly form relations with snakes of all kinds in case of a need in the future.

Smiling, Harry shook his head at how easily distracted he had just became over a silly old scar. He held out his hand and a second later a pair of clean jocks flew into the bathroom. After he put them on, he grabbed his wand and knife plus their holsters before he walked out into his bedroom and discarded the items on his bed. He turned around with a heavy sigh and headed to his wardrobe. Shuffling through the many dark coloured tops hanging next to his leather coats, he selected a long sleeved, black shirt. Sending it floating over to his bed with a mere wave of his hand, he turned his attention to the bottom drawer in his wardrobe. He opened the drawer to reveal an array of neatly folded pants, shorts, socks and underwear. Wasting no time, he grabbed out his most comfortable tracksuit pants he had and sent them over to his bed.

Grabbing the towel from around his shoulders, he dried the last of the damp tips of his hair. Throwing the towel towards the bathroom without a glance, he closed the doors to his wardrobe and walked over to his bed. He knew he had delayed going down for as long as he could. If he took any longer, he might be rudely dragged downstairs by the ear like had happened in the past. Harry hastily got dressed into his clean clothes, the material sticking to his still slightly wet body. Reattaching the weapons to their rightful place, feeling better when he knew they were never leaving his side. He turned around and looked in the mirror, checking his appearance was suitable enough before he prepared to head down stairs. His messy, dark brown hair sat with slight curls on his head. The clothes he wore snugged his body in all of the right places.

Harry took a deep breath before he finally opened his door and started descending down the stairs slowly. With each step, his heart beat increased as did his anxiety heighten. He reached the bottom step and turned to face the lounge room and kitchen that were full of familiar faces. His eyes roamed the room, unconsciously still on alert for any dangers. He stood there as his presence went undetected for the moment. The room was decorated with party strings, banners with words, balloons pumped with helium floating on the ceiling.

“Harry!” someone yelled, bring all attention to Harry as he stood at the bottom of the stairs.

Everyone in the room turned to him, all eyes trained on him and his reactions. Soon enough, the group broke out in to the birthday song. Some singing dramatically, while others sung normally. He couldn’t help the smile that managed to surface, a slight blush on his face at all of the attention. This was by far the biggest turnout he had ever had in all the years he lived here. A feeling of sadness overcame him, seeing the faces of many he came to enjoy the company of. He knew deep down that he wouldn’t be seeing many of them for a while, it could even be a year depending on how his mission went.

Loud cheers deafened him as the song came to an end. Shaking his head, he pushed aside the intruding emotions and focused on the present. He walked forward into the crowd of people, handing out hugs, handshakes, and high fives with his friends and family as he made his way towards the kitchen. His eyes bugged out of his head as he saw the small pile of presents laying at the head of the table, next to plates upon plates of delicious, mouth-watering food. The group had made his favourite chocolate chip pancakes, an occurrence that didn’t happen often. There was also a selection of other breakfast foods such as bacon, eggs, sausages, fresh fruit, and pastries. Harry looked around with a shimmer in his eyes, glad to have them all in his life.

Drew stood at the head of the table, watching Harry with a kind smile. He gestured for the younger to come and sit down at the table, as it was indeed time to open the gifts. Harry complied with the silent orders, as much as he hated receiving gifts and presents from others, he didn’t want to disappoint them all by not opening them now. Sitting down at the head of the table, he took a second to compose his thoughts before he reached forward and grabbed the closest wrapped gift. He saw a neatly scrolled _‘To Harry. From Grayson’_ on the front of the wrapping paper. Smiling he opened the gift cautiously, finding inside an array of books on different subjects. He could tell just by looking at them how old they were, no doubt costing the youngster a lot.

“Thank you, Grayson,” Harry looked up and found the shy teen standing off to the side of the group. “This means a lot.”

“It’s no problem Harry. Anything for my big brother,” whispered Grayson shyly, but loud enough for everyone in attendance to hear.

Harry smiled as he looked at the slightly younger, feeling extremely protective over the kid. The fact he had been through the same, if not a slightly worse childhood than Harry, and still managed to live life with happiness was amazing. It showed his true character. Harry swore ages ago to protect his adoptive, younger brother at all costs. Harry may have been stripped of his family, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t rebuild one. One that he knew would cherish him, love him, protect him no matter what. Unlike certain blood related family members he was going to be visiting soon.

Harry continued opening the rest of his small pile of presents. He received them from only those that dared give him one. Many knowing how uncomfortable the whole process and day made him. He was grateful for having such understanding people in his life. He had received some more books to add to his collection, an array of candy for his devilish sweet tooth, the 12 piece set of Black Kunai Throwing Knives with two sheaths that Drew insisted on getting him, as well as a few new bullseye targets for his practice. That left him with one small, unopened gift. The group what in anticipation as Harry tore away the wrapping paper to reveal a key card for Madam Malkin's Robes. Frowning, he looked around for an explanation as to what he was holding in his hands.

“It is a gift card so you can buy new attire when you leave here,” Drew spoke up, smiling as a confused Harry looked at him. “Each and every one of us pitched in some money so you can buy whatever you desire. We thought it would be nice if you didn’t have to spend your money on that when you have so much else to purchase.”

“I-“ Harry tried saying, feeling a lump get stuck in his throat. “I really appreciate this, thank you all so much.”

“Enough soppy emotions, let’s eat!” Parker exclaimed only to be hit on the back of his head by Charlie who was standing next to him. “What? I’m hungry.”

The group laughed in unison, leave it to Parker to ruin the moment with his insatiable appetite. Harry led the charge by being the first to fill up his plate. Although he didn’t mind opening presents this year, he was rather keen to eat and get on with his day. His mind filled with a plan on what he was going to do for the rest of the day. He wanted to train with his new weapons, wanting to get used to them in advance for tomorrow night. He also needed to get ready for leaving, a process that would take quite some time. Harry looked around the room as he ate in silence, observing conversations and silently thanking all of the people there for their continued support and love.

**> _< >_< >_<**

The slick black knife spun through the air, hurling towards the bullseye target strapped to a tree trunk. With a thud, the tip of the knife landed perfectly in the middle of the bullseye. A small chunk of the wooden target flying out as the impact collided with previous cuts, creating a small crater in the middle. Harry stood a decent amount of distances from the tree breathing heavily with slight sweat dripping down his forehead. He stood in a strong stance, his front foot facing the direction of the tree while his other foot faced straight ahead. Every time he threw the knives, he would use his back leg to give him extra power in the throw as he twisted his top half to travel with the movement. He had found the perfect amount of power in both movements and throw to not stumble around clumsily and for a clean execution each time.

Instead of walking over to grab the knife, Harry simply levitated it back to him. The knife had been thrown countless of times since he received them this morning, utterly destroying one of the handful of new targets. He looked down at his red, irritated hand. The cord wrapped around the handle started to rub away at his skin, the repetitive movement and tight grip not helping for this extended target practice. He ignored the stinging pain as he plucked the floating knife from thin air. He steadied his breathing, focused his eyes on the bullseye, listened to the surrounding environment and cleared his thoughts from his mind. Bringing his arm back, he flung the handle of the knife with force, causing it to spin in fast circles before it once again hit the target impeccably in the middle.

Clapping from behind Harry brought him out of his own world. He turned around to see Drew walking towards him with an impressed smile. Harry couldn’t help but smile at his mentor, feeling a little less anxious now that he had run off some pent up energy. He had thoroughly been enjoying his time training with his new weapons. With not much room on his body to strap on the sheath, he decided to place them just above his ankles. Tightening them to fit snuggly on his black pants, he found it quite natural to pull them out when he was in a crouch as well as nonverbally summoning them with an _‘Accio’_ for when he was standing straight. He was feeling very fortunate that Drew got him these small throwing knives, it was an excellent addition to his artillery.

“How are they?” Drew asked as he came to stand next to Harry, looking at the dented target with a smirk.

“Brilliant,” Harry smiled genuinely up at the taller.

“That’s superb,” he looked down at the flushed face with knowing eyes. “How about you come have some late lunch. You have been out here for hours.”

“Always bossing me around, aye McIntyre,” he chuckled as he walked over to the target and pulled the knife out, placing it in its sheath on his right leg, and unstrapping the target from the tree trunk.

“Come on, you little brat,” Drew shook his head, reaching out a hand and ruffling Harry’s messy mop of hair in affection.

The two begun to walk towards the house in silence, Harry still regaining his composure from his relentless training session. The aching feeling in his muscles was a strange comfort to him. Knowing that he pushed himself to work as hard as he could in that session made him feel ecstatic. As he walked, Harry looked around the property, catching himself smiling at the serenity that lay before his eyes. This place had become his home, his personal paradise, his heart and soul. There was not an imperfect factor about this land or house. Everything was perfect in his eyes. The unkempt grass, the clearing in the field that they used for training, the tree line surrounding the entire property, the farm-styled house, and of course all the people that both lived here as well as worked with the team.

“I’ve got one more surprise for you,” Drew said, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

Drew stopped walking and reached in to his thick, grey, furry coat. He pulled out a small, silvery-green pouch just bigger than the size of both his hands combined. The fragile scales it was made out of looked delicate in the sunlight, shining slightly, almost as if they could fall apart at any time. It looked very familiar to Harry, yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The item reminded him of this rare item he had only read about, since they were so hard to get a hold of. He stared at it curiously for a little more until he looked back up at Drew in wonder, finding a smirk firm on the others face..

“Do you know what this is?” asked Drew.

“I have a faint idea as to what that is,” Harry nodded his head slowly, looking back down at the pouch.

“This is a Mokeskin pouch. I got it for you to take to Hogwarts with you,” he said, holding it out for him to take.

It was exactly what he thought it was, a Mokeskin pouch. A pouch made from the skin of a Moke, made to store items that only the owner can retrieve once placed inside. He knew it looked small in size, but if it had an Extension Charm placed upon it, it would allow for extra room. Already thinking of all the precious items he could store in there while at Hogwarts. Harry carefully took it in to his own hands. He felt slight uneasy as he felt the cool scales move in his hands as if it was still attached to the animal it was made from. He opened the top that was closed by thick, black drawstring. Peering inside, he saw the inside was lined with a soft, beige leather material. He ran a finger along the soft leather, loving the sensation of it.

“Thank you Drew,” he said, looking up with a massive smile on his face. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“You’re welcome,” Drew chuckled, reaching forward and brining the younger into a firm hug. “You deserve it.”

“I don’t, but thank you,” Harry laughed as he pulled away.

“You do,” he said with a frown.

“We’ll agree to disagree,” he shook his head as he stared back down at his gift in amazement.

“Mmm,” disapprovingly shaking his head, Drew started walking inside. “Go to your room and start getting ready, little brat.”

Harry chuckled as he followed Drew inside the house. He parted ways with him on the first floor, heading to his room as he was instructed. After closing his door for privacy, his smile dropped and his demeanour changed dramatically. A sombre, heavy air sat upon his shoulders as Harry looked around his room. This would be his last full day and his last night sleeping in this room before he would be leaving. Walking solemnly over to his bed, he placed the new gift gently on his made covers before turning around and walking over to his thin bookcase.

Running his finger along the spines of his neatly stacked books, debating which shall be chosen to make the journey with him. Grabbing book after book with the topics of combat, spell work, duels, and muggle special ops techniques, he levitated them over to his desk. Forming a decent pile of books to reread in his spare time, he turned his attention over to his weapon artillery stored in his wardrobe. Wondering if he should just take everything as he opened the middle drawer to reveal the many sparkling clean weapons. Deciding he could never be over prepared, he simply flicked his hand and sent the entire lot over to lay in neat rows on his desk, repeating the process with all his holsters and sheaths.

Turning his attention to his clothes, he considered what he would actually need. He wondered if he should take only a few outfits to save the limited space. Not only that, but he didn’t need to take much considering he would be getting an entire new wardrobe from Madam Malkin’s Robes as part of his birthday gift. Keeping this in mind, he grabbed all of his pairs of underwear and socks, followed by two pairs of sweat pants, two plain black shorts, five plain black and white, short sleeved shirts, and finally four of his black, leather cloaks. That should get him through until he gets the chance to make a trip to Madam Malkin’s.

Harry looked over to his desk, reviewing his selections that were neatly stacked in small piles. The only items he would want to add were his money pouch, his two way mirror and his new collection of candy he had received for his birthday. Summoning the candy stash from his bed and his money pouch and mirror from his bedside table, he added them to his pile. Satisfaction filled him for a few seconds as he looked over his packing, before sadness once again overcame him. He just was not ready to leave, not ready to leave behind everything he had here. He would miss this easy style of life; the quietness of being missing.

**> _< >_< >_<**

Wind roared loudly in Harry’s ears, the ground a green blur to his eyes as he whizzed passed on his Nimbus 2000. The polished wood gripped tightly in his hands as he travelled at great speed. His body positioned close to the handle to help him swiftly navigate the property. Swivelling skilfully in and out of the tree line, parting the tall grass as he flew through it, running circles around the entire inside edge of the property line. It was refreshing to fly in the cool summer evening air, nothing to disturb his peace high up there. His mind was empty as he slowed down his movement, coming to a stop above the training grounds.

The sun was setting slowly behind the tree line, light still illuminating the fields of tall grass surrounding him. A deep calm overcame him as he caught his breath. Harry wondered to himself how long he had been out flying for as he looked around the quiet grounds. He had decided to burn off some nervous energy after sorting everything in to piles ready for tomorrow. It would have to be well and truly over two hours that he had been out here, just flying. The tranquillity of being outside by himself helped him relax his previously racing mind. Being able to just do the movements without needing to think, without needing to focus, was a skill he had required over time.

As he looked around the orange tinted sky, he thought about how this time tomorrow he would be departing and making his way to the Dursley’s. How this time tomorrow would be the last time he would lay eyes on this very sight for a long time. How in over 24 hours, he would be facing the very scenario he had been dreading ever since he was kicked out of the Dursley’s residence. How he would be getting his long awaited revenge on the family that tried to destroy him. And soon enough he’ll be able to get his revenge on the old fool that had placed him at 4 Privet Drive that faithful night. 

Flinging the broom’s handle up without another thought, he ascended into the sky with great speed. He levelled out the handle and sat amongst the colourful clouds, overlooking the property below. His mind was stuck on the mission, it never straying too far from the thought, lingering in the back of his mind like an annoying insect bite. Harry thought about what he would be doing right now if this was just any other ordinary mission. Right now he would be scoping out the property, making sure he had committed all details to memory. Such as escape routes, places to hide, possible neighbours that could be troublesome, the routine of the victim or in this case, victims.

Seeing why he shouldn’t continue acting accordingly to normal missions, Harry slipped his wand into his hand and casted a Disillusionment charm to hide himself from the view as he made his way to his relatives place. He felt his heartbeat begin to quicken as he flew closer and closer to the house filled with nightmarish memories. Shivers traveling down his spine as memories resurfaced that he had tried so hard to supress and forget about. The sky seemingly darkened along with him as his thoughts turned violent. Rage bubbled dangerously under the surface.

Harry slowed down as he approached the quiet town of Little Whinging, knowing exactly where the street in question was located from where hovered. Having travelled this route many times, he could have probably navigated his way to the Dursley’s house with his eyes closed. Quickly descending from the sky, his eyes were trained on the roof he was about to land on. Before he crashed into said roof, he pulled up the handle of his broom, floating inches above the dirty, red tiles. Softly climbing off of his broom and onto the roof below, Harry made his way immediately to squat beside the chimney.

Not only moments after he had arrived did the Dursley’s make their nightly appearance in the neighbourhood. Vernon and Dudley loudly opened the front door, in the middle of a shouting match with each other. Petunia came rushing out behind them, trying to simmer down the loud, waddling lards to save them from anymore embarrassment then they had already caused throughout the years. Harry couldn’t help but chuckle as he saw numerous neighbours angrily slam their windows shut and shoot dirty stares towards the family of three. Some lingered by their windows with angry glares, knowing exactly what would happen next.

Like had happened every night since the bigger pile of lard had purchased the sports car, the father and son duo got in before noisily taking off to run the same route they always did. Harry narrowed in on Petunia, following her movement as she tried to sheepishly waved across the street at the neighbour who had stuck their head out their door. Inadvertently being the very same house on which Harry hid on the roof of, behind the chimney and safely out of view. He watched as Petunia hastily made her way back inside, seeing her settle in on the couch in the living room. The curtains that were wide open showed perfectly what the layout and future looked like within, a helpful advantage he had over them.

Through the window from where he as perched, he could see several places to hide within just that room alone. There was a spot behind the chair placed in the corner of the room, facing the television situated in the opposite corner. There was plenty of space behind the chair and wall, easily enough to slide in and out of. Harry also reckoned he could squeeze himself behind the television itself. It’s thick, boxy size enough to cover his body for long enough. And if he wanted to be lazy he could temporarily hide beside the arm of the couch. It would still give him the element of surprise, regardless if it wasn’t as cool as the other two.

As for exits in the case of an emergency, on the ground floor he could flee through the back door or the window above the kitchen sink. Upstairs there were a few windows he could jump out of. Dudley’s bedroom as well as the spare bedroom both faced the backyard, meaning the windows were above the flower gardens and small bushes that Petunia so desperately tried to maintain for appearances only. He of course wouldn’t be attempting to run on foot tomorrow night. No. He would be apparating safely away to this spot. It wasn’t far enough away to drain his magical core while cleansing the area of his traces, and it had a excellent view advantage of the whole street.

The sun had completely set by now, resulting in the darkening of the surrounding streets. Harry closed his eyes as the wind softly blew his hair around. Reaching out to across the road, he sensed the wards placed around number 4 Privet Drive. He couldn’t believe it as he made his way through the list of protection. No one had tampered with the wards since the night that Drew and Charlie had visited. The dismantled mess of a system was laughable, with one thought, he could have it all erased and out of his way. Something he will surely keep in mind for tomorrow night.

**> _< >_< >_<**

Today was the day. It was the moment he hadn’t been waiting for. Harry stood at his desk in his room, placing the stacks of clothing into the scaly mokeskin pouch. The items immediately disappearing into the dark depths of the endless pit. His mind elsewhere as he continued packing while on auto-pilot mode. Nervous thoughts over took his mind, anxious for the upcoming events. Moving on to his weapons, he overlooked what he needed to pack and what he needed for the night. He separated them into two piles with ease, leaving out only the 12 set Black Kunai Throwing knives and his two small knives that usual sat on his bicep. His wand and Blackhawk Tatang knife already strapped on him.

Before he could place the weapons away, he needed to cover them so that when he summoned them back up, he wouldn’t get cut. He sorted through all of the sheaths and holsters that matched their rightful weapons, making quick work of covering the sharp objects. A heavy sigh left his pinkish lips as he started packing his collections of combat and fighting weapons. At least he could easily summon them tonight if he needed them, since he would be carrying the pouch with him. He moved on to packing his books, luckily there weren’t too many he was taking with him. Anyway, he knew he could always go to the library at Hogwarts if he needed to study up on anything.

With the big piles of items now put away, there was only three things left to pack; the two way mirror, his candy and money pouch. It took him less than thirty seconds and then he was all done. He had officially finished packing up his life and was now ready to leave this life behind. The daunting meaning behind being finished weighed on him. To know soon he would have to go down stairs for the last time and face his chosen family, terrified him. Harry turned his head to look out the window, sighing as he saw the sun once again setting over the land he would miss. A sign time was ticking closer and closer, unrelenting and cruel.

His room seemed so empty with the missing items he was taking with him. Seeing the gaps on his bookshelf and half of his wardrobe missing, pained him. His heart sunk as he walked over to his wardrobe. He stared blankly at his only remaining black, leather clock, not wanting to put it on as it would mean one step closer to departing. Yet Harry had to push his nerves and sentiment aside for the time being, he needed to be focused. He could always grieve once he was successfully in the wizarding world, surrounded by the blundering idiots. Already dressed in his black shirt, long black pants, and thick black boots, he completed his look with the signature cloak. Reluctantly he walked over to his wardrobe before he draped the clock around his shoulders, fastening the clasp around his neck.

With a resigned shake of his head, he walked back over to his desk. Grabbing his mokeskin pouch, he tied the drawstrings through a loop on his pants where belts normally sit. He hung it off a loop to the right side, so it was out of the way of most of his movements. Harry sighed heavily as he grabbed his first small knife, attaching it to his bicep with the aid of magic. Repeating the same with his other small knife, before grabbing the first set of six throwing knives. He squatted down, pulled up the pants to reveal his tanned skin and attached the holster tightly around his ankle. Covering them with the pants, he reached up and blindly fumbling around until he found the second set of six throwing knives. Quickly switching legs, he attached the holster on top of the pants instead, but just as tightly wrapped as the other one was.

Harry stood up and slowly looked around his room. He studied each piece of furniture, each sentimental present he had received, each fond memory that was etched in to his mind. A soft smile couldn’t help but grace his lips. As much as he was dreading leaving, he couldn’t help but be so grateful for being able to grow up here. He was so grateful to be loved, to be cared for, to be wanted. A shiver travelling down his spine as he imagined what his life would have been like growing up with the Dursley’s. No doubt it would have been a terrible, painful childhood. Considering what he went through in that short time as a young boy with them.

Ridding anymore thoughts along those lines for now, he snatched the small box that held his shrunken Nimbus 2000 from his bedside table. With one last longing gaze, he turned sharply on his heel and left the room. Closing the door softly behind him, Harry took a deep breath to compose himself before finally descending the stairs. As soon as he had reached the last few steps, people begun to stand up and make their way over to the staircase. He smiled at the glum faces that surrounded him, knowing this was as equally hard for them as it was for him. A small figure pushed through the small crowd to stand at the front.

“Do you really have to go, Harry?” Grayson asked, looking up at Harry with sad puppy dog eyes.

“Unfortunately I do,” Harry sighed as he held out his arms for the younger to come and hug him.

Grayson wasted no time, immediately rushing forwards and tightly wrapping his smaller arms around Harry’s back and stomach. His head resting on Harry’s steadily beating heart, find it comforting to listen to. Wrapping his own arms around the younger, Harry felt his heart break. He and Grayson had never been away from each other since Grayson had been taken in. Harry knowing what the younger had been through only made their bond stronger. He didn’t know how the other would cope without him here to turn to, to be there in the dark moments, to talk to late at night when everyone else was asleep.

“I wish you weren’t leaving,” Grayson sighed, still hugging Harry.

“I know, me too,” he sighed as he squeezed the other a bit tighter to comfort him.

“I’m going to miss you more than words can explain,” he choked, tears forming in his eyes as he hid his head further in the elder’s chest. “Please come home safely.”

The entire group stayed silent as the words from the youngest member of their family hung heavily in the air. Their hearts sunk as the seconds dragged on, neither boy wanting to let go of the other. The silence was soon filled with soft sobs as Grayson let out his pent up emotions. He broke down crying for the first time as he squeezed all of the air out of Harry. His heart broke for the younger. He tried to soothe him by rubbing his back gently, knowing he craved caring and gentle touches since he was so deprived of them as a child.

Harry managed to pry Grayson off of him just long enough for him to kneel down in front off him. The other immediately attaching himself to him again, arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders. Harry continued rubbing his back softly, noticing the calming effect it had on the younger. He looked over the group and saw the many tears welled up in the eyes of these adults. Their hearts breaking at the sight before them. His eyes catching Drew’s brown ones, an intense sadness deep within, the only sign of emotion on the man’s face currently. Harry couldn’t maintain eye contact with his mentor, or he too might start crying. Closing his eyes, he hugged Grayson tightly as he rested his chin on the other’s shoulder.

“I have to get going, Grayson,” Harry whispered next to his ear as soon as the younger had calmed down.

“Okay,” he hiccupped, finally relenting and standing up straight in front of Harry.

“I promise I will write to you as soon as I can. And do not be afraid to send me a letter whenever, for whatever, even if it just to chat. Okay?” Harry said, wiping away the tears from his adoptive brother’s small face.

Nodding his head as he took over wiping his own face dry, Grayson stepped back and stood close to Tina who he thought as a mother figure. As Harry stood up, the small crowd begun to exchange hand shakes and hugs. Wishing him a safe mission and to behave as much as he could. The last person to say their farewells was Drew. It made sense. He was the one to take in Harry, he was the one to mentor him, he was the one to bring him up all these years. The two men stood there for a few seconds, green eyes staring into brown eyes, both filled with sorrow. Without a word, the two embraced each other in a strong hug. Drew pulled away after a minute and patted the younger on the shoulder.

“Be good,” Drew’s deep voice filled the room.

“I will. You be good too,” Harry smiled up at the tall Scottish man.

“Little brat,” he laughed as he ruffled the messy mop of hair. “I’ll have my mirror with me for the next few days. Just call me through that if you need anything at all.”

Harry nodded his head as he took a step back. He smiled at each and every person standing there before him. His heart full of love and contentment. Before he psyched himself out of leaving, he silently opened the door and exited the house. The group followed him out and watched as he took out the broom from its box. With his stomach in his throat, Harry swung his leg over the broom handle and took a deep breath. He longingly looked over his shoulders at his family and friends before kicking off the ground. He waved as he started rising up and soon enough, they were nothing but tiny little dots on the ground. Clearing his mind of all thoughts, he quickly checked over his attire and weaponry before placing a Disillusionment charm over himself. Harry flew over the quite towns and cities of England, knowing he was merely minutes away from his destination.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy this surprise! Please give me some comments and love. Have a happy holiday or break and I'll probably see you all in the new year! Much love to you all, stay safe!

**Chapter 7**

Perched on top of the house across the street from the Dursley’s residence, Harry Potter observed the quiet street that was shrouded in darkness. His eyes wandering over the landscape below as they adjusted to the lower visibility the rising moon permeated. The yellowish glow from lights within households illuminated the street, along with the orange tinge from the many street lamps lined along the paths. Harry’s eyes were trained on the window that looked in to the living room of 4 Privet Drive. Within, Petunia Dursley laid on the couch watching the television. The flickering fluorescent lights emitting from the boxy device illuminated the semi-dark room.

A set of headlights from an annoyingly loud car turned in to the top of the street, illuminating the dark shadows as it rumbled along slowly. Harry instantly knew it without looking that was the sports car Vernon owned that was slowly approaching, extremely familiar with the sound of the irritating vehicle. However, he was not the only one familiar with the low rumbling. Petunia shot up from where she was laying comfortable, scrambling to turn the television off and hastily make her way into the kitchen. Harry knew that she feared being on the end of either of Vernon’s or Dudley’s wrath, he knew what it was like first hand.

The car pulled into the driveway and shut off moments later. Two large men hopped out of the car, the vehicle instantly lifting a few centimetres up from the ground once the heavy humans exited. The two made their way inside, heading to the back of the house ready for their dinner to be served to them like ravenous kings. Harry got comfortable in his position on the roof, knowing he needed to wait until the streets were fully covered in darkness and the residents of Privet Drive had settled in for the night. He would wait all night if he had too, taking advantage of the right time to go in his favour.

While he waited patiently, his mind couldn’t help but wonder to the past. Remembering why he was here and all of the pain he had experienced. Harry couldn’t remember much of his time with his parents before they were killed. His first and earliest memories being trapped inside a cupboard, hardly sleeping in fear of the door being opened and the abuse beginning. He remembered how he would have to make breakfast and lunch from a young age, gaining kitchen skills through trial and error. Making food to the exact liking of the abhorrent family. Flashes of fists flying at him, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the painful phantom bruises resurfacing in his skin.

Harry couldn’t help but experience the exact same feelings as those terrifying memories re-emerged. All of the abuse he had faced in those few years forever effecting him, changing the way he had lived. He hated to think what would have been of him if he had continued to live there instead of being found on the streets that fateful night. He knew for a fact the abuse would have only worsened. Vernon had enthusiastically encouraged his son to contribute to the physical abuse from a young age. Looking at the size of his grown cousin and the mean streak he had at school, he knew he wouldn’t have survived much longer in their ‘care’. Between the mental abuse from them all, plus the emotional neglect, he would have been dependant on any show of affection or sympathy from anyone he met.

His attention was drawn back to the present as he noticed all three of his relatives had made their way into the living room. He watched as Vernon immediately snatched the television remote from the coffee table and sat back in his chair in the corner of the room. Dudley took his usual position on the couch, spreading out and half hanging off as he laid down. Petunia tiredly sat in the other chair that sat closer to the window, her body out of view from this angle. Harry knew his time was approaching to strike as he watched the family relax for the evening.

Time seemed to go by slowly as he watched every small movement with hawk like eyes. To occupy his racing mind, he pulled out of the new throwing knives from its sheath of his ankle. He absentmindedly twirled it on the tip of his left pointer finger, ignoring the slightly pain it caused. Harry noticed the fidgeting with his knife calmed his busy mind, clearing it of the intrusive thoughts. His eyes scoured the street below, looking through the small amount of windows where curtains were opened. Observing that majority of occupants had already either gone to bed or were quietly watching their favourite television programs.

In all honesty, Harry could probably head on in right now and start the job. However he wanted to wait just a little longer. He needed them to be in the prime position for when he entered. Preferably one or two members of the household leaving the living room. That way he wasn’t able to be ganged up on, not like they would be able to with his magical abilities. However it was better to be safer rather than sorry. He exhaled deeply as he adjusted his position on the roof, his muscles aching slightly from the training he had been putting his body through the last day and a half since receiving the new weapons for his birthday.

Finally the chance for him to enter the house arose as Vernon barked an order at his obedient wife. She rushed out of the room and seemed to disappear into the back towards the kitchen. No doubt to whip up some dessert for the hungry obese men. Closing his eyes, he checked the status of all of the wards and protective charms over the house. Only to find nothing had changed since he was there last night. Harry smirked as he placed his knife away and stood up to stretch his limbs quickly. He made his way carefully, yet swiftly, over to the edge of the roof. Grabbing on to the thick branch of the tree that overshot the roof, he made quick work of descending safely down to the ground. 

Harry made sure his hoodie was covering his identity as he ran across the street with speed, eyes never leaving the window of 4 Privet Drive. He crouched down as soon as he arrived at the door step, wand sliding smoothly in to his hand. Silently he unlocked the door with a small click signifying the success of the spell. It swung open a few inches, a strong scent of alcohol wafting straight into his nostrils. Harry scrunched his nose in disgust as he stood up from where he was squatting. He took a cautious step in to the house for the first time in eleven years.

With his body fully inside, he softly moved the door to close behind him, eyes never leaving the hallway. All of his sense where on full alert as he made his way towards the living room, back against the wall to keep him from view. Inch by inch, he moved closer to the doorway of the living room. His ears filled with the sounds of an action filled tv show. Peeping around the corner, Harry saw his relatives up close and personal for the first time in years. The rage quickly surfaced at the sight of the two males relaxing in their living rom. He tried his best to fight off the urge to go in with guns blazing, trying to keep his rational side above any other strong emotions.

Pointing his wand at his fat uncle, he silently stunned the man with a nonverbal ‘Stupefy’. The red light whizzing through the air and striking the unsuspecting victim. Although the light was bright and lit up the room momentarily, the only child continued to lay where he was as his eyes never left the television. Face scrunching up in disgust, Harry wasted no time in casting the same spell on his cousin, getting what he deserved for being so caught up in the brain dead media. Harry entered the living room quietly, making his way directly to the open window. Shutting the curtains to prevent onlookers from his heinous action that were about to occur.

Turning around, he took in the faces of his relatives. Disgusted by the state that had allowed themselves to progress into. The greasy skin shone in the lighting, clothes barely concealing their large bellies, fat, short fingers hanging loosely over the edge of their favourite seats, the stench of alcohol permeating from both father and son. His eyes caught sight of the cupboard he used to be condemned to. Fist tightened around the handle of his wand, anger seeping out and lashing out at the small vase of flowers sitting on the wooden coffee table. The vases smashed in to a million little piece, combusting absolutely everywhere, nothing safe from the sharp shards.

“What was that?” Petunia’s high shrill voice yelled from the kitchen before quick footsteps came towards the living room. 

Harry watched with a devilish smirk on his face, only the bottom half of his face visible, eager for how the next few moments would unfold. Petunia walked in to the entrance hall only to stop dead in her tracks as he eyes laid upon her passed out family and the stranger standing square in the middle of her living room. Her terrified eyes widen as she noticed the wand hanging in the right hand of this darkly dressed person. Heart beating faster at the smirk she could see beneath the hood of the cloak. She took a few steps backwards, hand reaching behind her to try and find a weapon to help defend herself from this person.

“Hello Auntie,” Harry drawled out with a deep voice, only smirking even more viciously when recognition dawned in her eyes. “Have you missed me?”

Petunia begun to shake her head in denial, not wanting to believe who stood in her house right now. But she didn’t have much time to react as a red spell came flying directly at her. Rendering her unconscious almost immediately. Harry did not flinch as her body hit the ground, rather he chuckled darkly to himself as he strolled over and took one of her legs in his grasp. He dragged her limp body in to the middle of the living room, releasing her leg and not caring when he heard a loud thump as it hit the ground. Merely flicking his wand, he moved the coffee table out of the way and in to the corner of the room.

Not wanting to hurt his back by the heaviness of his uncle, Harry casted a silent ‘ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ’ and shifted the unconscious large male down to the floor. He slowly paced around his two previous caregivers, taking deep breaths to calm his angry magical core. He stared down at the with a grimace firm on his face. The sight of them making him sick as memories of what they had done to him were fresh in the forefront of his mind. Pointing his wand directly at Vernon, he casted a nonverbal ‘ _Incarcerous_ ’, thick rope shooting out of its tip and wound tightly around the lifeless body. Repeating the same process with his aunt soon after that.

Wasting no time, Harry safely placed his wand away before grabbing out his Blackhawk Tatang knife from its holster on his calf. He knelt beside his uncle’s chest, watching the ropes restrict his breathing in what surely was an uncomfortable way. He begun carving into the fatty flesh on display, cutting away muscles and tendons, exposing parts of bones to the surface. Making sure to not leave the face alone, Harry begun disfiguring the fatty cheeks and slicing open the lips until the face was almost unrecognisable with crimson blood. Becoming bored, he attempted to straddle the man’s chest as best as he could.

“Rennervate,” Harry whispered, the spell shooting out from the middle of his palm.

Vernon Dursley gasped awake, wiggling under the weight of someone who sat upon him. Terror filled his eyes as tears mixed in with the blood running down his cheeks. An agonising pain was shooting all throughout his upper body. He looked up at the stranger that had bound him, trying to make out any details through his blurry vision. He managed to catch sight of the weapon that had obviously done so much damage, it was safely nowhere near his precious face anymore. 

“W-Who are you?” Vernon stuttered in a weak whisper.

“Don’t you recognise me, dear Uncle?” Harry laughed darkly as he pulled the hoodie off of his face to finally reveal himself.

Nothing came out of Vernon’s mouth but gibberish, instantly going in to shock at who the invader really was. It had been many years since Vernon had seen the putrid kid, and it had been the happiest years of his life with him gone. He was thoroughly glad he had kicked the kid out. Even more so thinking it had resulted in the death of the burden child. But he couldn’t ignore the fact this person had the exact same rare eye colour as well as the same uncontrollable, messy mop of hair that his nephew had. The only thing that was vastly different was the absence of the ugly scar that had resided on his forehead. 

“Harry?” he asked in a whisper, everything hurting to move, to talk, to breathe.

“Or _Freak_ ,” Harry hummed as he held the bloodied tip of his knife to his chin in contemplation. “Oh, one of my favourites was when you called me a little mutt. Or was it burden that was my favourite? Hm, it seems I have forgotten. What was your favourite name to call me, Uncle Vernon?”

Gulping, Vernon turned his head to the side. Not shame, but rather embarrassment hanging over him as his nephew continued to talk. Embarrassed he had been tied up, that he had been caught off guard, that he had been overpowered by a fifteen or sixteen year old. His eyes laid upon his unconscious son who was still on the couch. His heart pounded at the sight, all he wanted to be able to do was protect his precious little boy at any cost. Turning his head to the other side, not being able to look at his son like that any longer, he saw his wife laying a mere few inches from him; unconscious and bound as well. The same feeling he had for his son wasn’t present as he looked at Petunia. He couldn’t care less for the situation the woman was in.

“Well that’s not very nice, now is it, Vernon?” Harry said, grabbing the fat, bloodied face and forcing it to turn towards him. “What shall we do with you, hmm?”

“What do you want from me?” he weakly pleaded, tired and sore.

Harry smirked darkly as he raised his left arm up, nonverbally waking both Petunia and Dudley up at the same time. As he waited for the spell to kick in, he tuned in to the status of the wards, keeping them in the background of his mind. Looking between the other two, he revelled in the confusion that filled both their eyes as they slowly came too. Petunia begun struggling within her confines as her memory resurfaced from moments before, frantic eyes overlooking her mutilated husband. Sighing in relief as she saw her son unharmed on the couch. She looked up at her nephew, into the same green eyes as her dear sister, Lily, had. An unhinged, deranged look deep within, nothing like she had ever seen from anyone before.

“Now that everyone is awake, I shall begin,” Harry smirked. “Vernon. I’m going to hurt you.”

The man in question whimpered beneath him, a pathetic sight to behold. To either side of him, Harry could hear soft cries and please to be let go. He moved his eyes from his uncle to his cousin, making direct eye contact with Dudley for the first time in eleven years. Recognition dawned in his eyes as his small pea sized brain worked hard to figure out why the guy looked so familiar. 

“I’m going to maim you. You’re going to beg me to stop, but I am going to _torture_ you,” he said while never taking his eyes off of Dudley, delighted as he saw the other squirm under his glare. “I am going to make you regret the day you took me in to your home. And make you regret the day you ever laid your fat little fingers on me.”

Harry moved off of his uncle and knelt beside his arm. He teased the already open wounds by sticking the tip of his knife inside the red flesh. Vernon screamed in pain, trying his best to wiggle free or get away from the knife. Smirking, Harry grabbed hold of the short, fat fingers, stretching them out instead of them being curled away safely. He stared directly into Vernon’s eyes as he traced the knife all the way down his hand and came to stop at the pinkie finger. Without hesitation, without even looking, Harry pulled the finger away from the rest and begun hacking at it. Separating the foul finger from the hand.

“Stop!” Dudley yelled as he watched on in horror.

Dudley stood up from the couch and walked directly to his father and cousin, ready to save him from the torture. Yet he didn’t get very far as a white light hurdled towards him and hit him square in the chest. His body seized up, everything becoming stiff. Then the next thing Dudley knew, he was on the floor, frozen in position. All he was able to do was stare helplessly at his father as Harry continued with the onslaught of torture. All he was able to do was let a few small tears fall from his eyes. That was all he could do in this very moment.

With his large cousin now out of the way with a full body-binding curse, Harry scoffed as he turned his attention back to his slicing. He managed to finally separate the member from the hand, watching with glee as his uncle’s eyes rolled back in his head and passed out from the pain he was undergoing. Although, as much as it was easier to do his work without a fight, he was feeling quite sadistic right now. He wanted to be able to revel in the pain, to see each moment he hit the right nerve, to know that he was experiencing just as much pain that he had inflicted with these fingers.

“Rennervate!” he yelled furiously, the red light coming straight out of his left palm with speed.

Once again, Vernon gasped as he was forcefully awoken for the second time. He weakly lifted his head to try and find the damage done to him. Although his giant belly prevented him from seeing his hand that was tied to his side. He frantically looked up at the callous smile that was firm on his nephew’s face. He didn’t need to be told what had happened since he passed out, he knew he was missing a finger. He could feel the warm liquid gushing against the rest of his remaining fingers.

While Harry begun work on the next finger, he felt a small shift in the wards alerting him that an alarm had been raised with the Order members. He growled in frustration as his fun was about to be cut short. With a renewed sense of urgency, Harry begun to hack harder at the fingers on his uncle’s right hand. In a record time, he managed to sever all five fingers without stopping at the sickening sounds of bone being crushed and squishy noises emitting from the flesh. He quickly moved over to the other hand and repeated the process, ignoring the soft pleas from Petunia beside him.

Blood soaked the carpet beneath Vernon, creating a spongy noise as Harry stood with feet either side of the fingerless stumps of hands. He looked around at the family that once abused him, glad to see the fear they had instilled in him present in their eyes. Making sure they were both paying attention first, he then proceeded to bring his right hand up to his shoulder and he lent forwards slightly. He looked Vernon dead in the eyes as he swung his right arm down with force, slicing a deep, long gash in the middle of his throat. The male immediately begun to gurgle and choke on his on blood. No longer being able to breathe properly, he soon passed out from oxygen depletion. The life slowly draining from his body.

A loud bang rung throughout the streets outside. Harry looked towards the window, knowing his time was limited. He slid his wand down into his hand before casting a nonverbal ‘ _Finite_ ’ towards Dudley followed rapidly by two ‘Obliviate’ spells directed at his cousin and aunt. The door knob rattled as the person reached the front of the house. Not wanting to chance anything else, Harry apparated out of the room, going directly to the roof of the house across the road. He watched as a purple robed wizard with a long grey beard stormed into the house, pausing at the entrance as his eyes caught sight of the mess in the living room.

Harry closed his eyes and used all of his energy to quickly clean the crime scene of his DNA and magical residual and signature. Feeling the return of his magic from the Dursley’s house, clearing him from any suspicion or being revealed. He made sure to erase the possible footprints left in the pool of blood that had soaked into the carpet as well, cautious about leaving any trace at all. Breathing heavily as he tried to regain his composure, satisfied he did a perfect job. As he sat on the roof allowing his magical core to recover, he watched as Order member after Order member begun apparating into the street and rushing into the house.

“Minerva McGonagall,” Harry whispered out loud while distractedly placing his dirty knife away. “Nymphadora Tonks. Severus Snape. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Dedalus Diggle. Arthur Weasley. Molly Weasley. Mundungus Fletcher. Fred and George Weasley. Alastor Moody. Emmeline Vance. Elphias Doge. Bill Weasley. Hestia Jones. Wow, almost the whole gang is here.”

Harry chuckled to himself as he sat back and watched the events unfold. He watched as each person walked in to the house and almost instantly walking back out. Well except for a few, the ones that are used to seeing stuff like that or that don’t have a weak stomach. Molly was frantically trying to keep her kids out of the house, while simultaneously trying to help Petunia and Dudley out of the house. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, finding her overbearing motherly actions too much even from this distance. She finally succeeded in getting the two surviving Dursley’s out of the way from the busied Auror’s.

What Harry was not expecting was the red faced Dumbledore that stormed out of the house, yelling and barking orders at his little sheeple. He saw Severus Snape follow closely behind, clearly acting as the perfect right hand man for the manipulative Headmaster. He couldn’t make out the exact words that were shouted directly into Severus’s face, but he knew the angry old man had order the Potion’s Professor to check over the mostly unharmed Petunia and Dudley. Oh, how Harry was thoroughly enjoying the chaos he had caused tonight. The random attack clearly throwing Dumbledore off his game and destroying his usual calm composure.

The chaos continued to ensue as Severus reported back to the Headmaster of Hogwarts that the memory of both surviving family members had been wiped professionally to the point it could not be recovered. Harry chuckled as a mini tantrum followed the information, seeing yet again the old man loose his cool. He watched as the thin, lanky, black haired Severus Snape distanced himself from the rest of the group. Seemingly content to sit back and watch everyone else try and control the situation at hand. Switching sides behind the chimney, Harry watched with intrigued eyes as the Potion Master of Hogwarts begun combing over the neighbourhood for any signs of disturbance.

While he was thoroughly impressed the double spy agent thought to look outside the main crime scene, it did put Harry at risk of being exposed. As the cold, black eyes searched the rooftops of the surrounding houses, he momentarily hid fully behind the chimney. He stayed with his back fully against the brick structure and face overlooking the backyard of the property he was on, for more than a few minutes. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head and slightly peered over the edge of the chimney and saw the coast was once again clear to resume his normal position.

Harry couldn’t help but be intrigued by the lone man. Of course he had done a lot of research on every Order member, but there was limited information when it came to Severus Snape. He would love to know what dark spells the other had created, only releasing a few deemed acceptable for society. Harry weighed up his options in that moment. He knew he wanted to learn more about the man, and he could do that by slightly gracing the surface through Legilimency. But could he risk being caught if the man was more advanced in Occlumency than the reports showed. Deciding that he only lived once and also had the option of escaping quickly if need be, he prepared to use some Legilimency.

Grabbing out the small box in his pocket that held his shrunken broomstick, he flicked open the lid and took out his Nimbus 2000. He knew that if he needed to escape, he wouldn’t be able to apparate without alerting people to his presence and potentially leaving behind his magical residue. Quickly getting his wand out, he casted a nonverbal Disillusionment charm upon himself and broomstick as an extra measure of precaution. Taking a deep breath, he recalled his magical signature that lingered in the air around him, before he trained his eyes upon the Potion Master and begun to concentrate.

Slowly, Harry pushed his presence into Severus Snape’s mind. He tried to break down the barriers within at a snail’s pace as to not alert the other. He found a little push here and there, but so far he had yet to be detected. Harry could contribute the slightly relaxed barriers due to the distractions of the ongoing events around the man. He was utterly impressed at the sheer amount of layers he had protecting his mind. It was unlike any he had seen before. The impressive barriers would have definitely come in handy when it came to being a double spy agent for both side, preventing either mad man from perusing his memories and thoughts without permission. There was no doubt the other had probably perfected the art of sharing specific memories while not letting his guard down at the same time.

Suddenly, the barriers were slammed back up in full force and Harry was ejected out of the mind of Severus Snape’s. Without hesitation, Harry shot up in to the sky. Lingering in the air above the houses as he watched the baffled Potion’s Professor look around the street for the culprit. Knowing he was close to being caught, he took off swiftly towards a different city where he could safely apparate from. Flying at high speed, he felt the adrenaline rush pulsing throughout his entire body. His mind was racing almost as fast as his broomstick. The elated feeling present in the forefront of his mind at getting away like the assassin he had been trained to be.

Harry had been so caught up in his euphoria that he didn’t realise he had flown more than a few cities over from Little Whinging. Chuckling to himself, he brought himself down as he flew above the unfamiliar town. He spotted a small alleyway with no lights around. Knowing that spot was definitely safe enough, he slowed down his Nimbus 2000 and came to land expertly in the middle of the quiet alleyway. Placing his broomstick back into its box, he pocketed the box in the inside of his cloak. Harry took a deep breath as he gathered his bearings, knowing where he was about to apparate to next would take out a fair amount of energy from his magical core. 

With eyes closed, he focused on the location in his mind before apparating in the next second. He opened his eyes to find he successfully travelled to the outskirts of Hogwarts. Towering over him was the Main Entrance Gates of Hogwarts herself, the wrought iron shining in the moonlight. At either side of the gates sat two winged boards, looking over the entrance, ready to protect when the time arose. Harry looked around from where he stood, a plan formulating in his head without any effort. Not far from the gates were a small group of bushes, perfect for hiding behind.

The plan was to follow whoever returned back to Hogwarts all the way inside, until he could make his way into the Headmaster’s office for his big reveal. As Harry settled in behind the bush, he mused about how he hadn’t developed a plan after arriving at Hogwarts. Unlike his usual meticulous self, he left the rest of the night to his spontaneous side. He double checked the Disillusionment charm was still active, hiding him from view, as he then begun to rummage around in his mokeskin pouch. Summoning some of his candy supply to munch on while he waited patiently, gazing around the quiet landscape lit by the soft moonlight.

Harry didn’t know how much time had passed since he first begun crouching behind the bush, but he was finally joined by the presence of the Order. Loud bangs that sounded like cars backfiring rung throughout the silent area as member after member arrived at the gates of Hogwarts. His green eyes scrutinised each one of the tired faces that appeared, his senses on high alert in case his presence was to be detected. Without a word, the Headmaster flicked his hand in the air to open the gates. Big, dark bags sat under his eyes, a sign of the toll this situation was having on the old man. The sight only bringing more pleasure to Harry and especially because of what he was about to do.

Dumbledore started to lead the silent, gloomy group up the path towards the magnificent castle. Seeing his opportunity, Harry slowly stood up. He instantly stilled as black eyes roamed the area for which he stood in. Senses on high alert and his wand at the ready to slid into his hand in a millisecond, as the one and only Severus Snape combed the bushes and the nearby area for the source of the sound he had heard. The tense for seconds finally passed as the Potion Professor turned on his heel and caught up with the back of the group with his long, quick strides. A heavy sigh left his lips once the immediate danger had passed, making his way out of the bush as stealthily as he could.

The gates started to close the further the group walked. Harry only just squeezing in passed them as they fully closed, ensuring no one else could enter for the night. With each carefully step, he followed the Order at a safe distance all the way to the staircase that led to the main entrance. Dumbledore once again flicked the doors open as he approached without a word, a little harsher than he normally would as they slammed against the walls with a loud thud. Harry rolled his eyes as he matched the footsteps of Severus, climbing each step at the same time as the other to avoid being heard.

The journey through the massive halls of Hogwarts was rather quiet, a tension hanging thick in the air. Harry allowed his eyes to wander occasionally, smirking as some of the portraits caught sight of him. Grateful they were the portraits of those that were not loyal to Dumbledore, otherwise his elaborate plan would have been thoroughly spoiled. There were moments that had Harry pausing periodically due to the double agent turning around and looking around the empty hallways with wary eyes. Credit must be given where it is due, and he must admit he was exceedingly impressed with how in tune the professor was with his senses. He also could not help but think how great of an assassin the dark auraed man would make.

“Lemon Drops,” the Headmaster barked out the password to his office, a wave of anger accidently lashing out at one of the nearby paintings which resulted in it landing face down on the ground and crying out understandable profanities.

Harry rolled his eyes as he followed the group up the staircase that led to the Headmaster’s office. The room quickly losing the space to hold everyone, much to Harry’s loathing. He stayed at the edge of the room, near the entrance, instantly grabbing both his Blackhawk Tatang knife and wand in case the need arose. His eyes scanned the room, looking at each person and their position. Looking out to see if they noticed his presence or if he was safe for now. Black eyes stared directly back at him, a frown ever so slightly present on the harsh, pointy features of Severus Snape. Thinking he time was up, Harry cautiously took a step backwards.

“What happened tonight,” Dumbledore said as he sat down dejectedly in his chair, “was unspeakable.”

The entire room turned their tired eyes to the wicked leader, including the black eyes belonging to Severus Snape. Although this meant he was okay for the time being, it didn’t mean he was off the hook completely. He looked at Dumbledore whom was leaning back in his chair, hands clasped together as he stared disappointedly at his desk. As hard as he tried, Harry couldn’t gather a single drop of sympathy for the man for what he saw this evening.

“I hope this unfortunate situation will only help us untie together and find Harry Potter,” he said after a few more seconds of silence, purposefully making the members in attendance hang on to every single word he spoke. “Now I understand how this must have been taken a toll on you all. So I suggest you go home and get some good rest. I will call a meeting within the next few days. However if anyone needs anything, or needs to talk, you may stay behind.”

The entire mood of the room was grim, not a single person said anything more. Merely turning on their heels and leaving. None of them wanted to confide their feelings to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. But rather to each other as they made their way back to the gates. Each one passed by Harry without a clue, not knowing how close they were to the boy they spent many hours searching for, the boy many of them neglected, the Boy Who Lived. And soon the room was empty except for Dumbledore, Minerva, Severus, and Harry Potter. It didn’t take long after the last Order member leaving that Severus had turned around sharply and pointed his wand directly at the invisible person in the room.

“Reveal yourself,” Severus barked in a low tone, confusing both Minerva and Dumbledore. “Now.”

With only a thought, the charm was disabled. Slowly he was revealed to the three other occupants. All his weapons coming in to view, the dark attire that hid his face, the two objects in his hands showing he was ready to strike. Harry raised his right hand, showing he was merely taking off his hoodie to be able to reveal his face. Taking off the hoodie, he allowed them to see his electric green eyes, lingering on each of their faces to take in the surprised and confused looks.

“Who are you,” Dumbledore asked as he stood up.

"I believe I am the one you have been looking for, Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry said with a smirk, twirling his Blackhawk Tatang knife in his hand as he reached down and placed it away for now. However he kept his wand in his left hand, staying ready for anything.

The room stilled as the words sunk in. Minerva shook her head as she took in the sight of the young man who claimed to be the missing child. Although she could see attributes of the child’s parents within him, there was no way this was the one and only Harry Potter. Severus continued to train his wand directly at the strangers head, mesmerised by the same green eyes his childhood best friend had. The words slowly seemed to absorb and realisation dawned at who he was pointing his wand at.

“I very much doubt that, young man. The boy we are looking for, Harry Potter, has a scar on his forehead in the shape of a lighting scar. You my dear boy, do not have one,” Dumbledore said in an authority manner, trying to get the truth out of whoever this little brat was.

“That will be explained in due time,” Harry smirked, not backing down.

“Excuse you?” Dumbledore asked in shock, the disrespect from the young man only irritating him more.

“I will explain why I no longer have a scar when the time is right, Headmaster Dumbledore,” he replied with nothing more than a smirk on his face.

Waves of anger seeping from the old man, the disrespect unlike anything he had to deal with in a long time. Dumbledore looked into the green eyes that defiantly stared back at him. If this brat wouldn’t reveal himself, or why he was truly here, he would have no choice but to force it out of him. Pushing into the mind of the stranger he tried to dig around as subtly as he could. Yet he was instantly met with strong barriers that protected his mind. Within less then a second, he was pushed out of the stranger’s mind, finding angry eyes glaring at him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Harry growled, not flinching a muscle even if he wanted to lunge at the man so badly.

“I am sorry, my boy. I’m sure you can understand the circumstances I’ve been throu-“ he said before being cut off.

“Do not call me your boy. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. Let’s keep this civil and formal. As for these circumstances you have been through, it does not give you the right to access my mind without consent. Am I not correct?” he spat at furiously, making the other two in the room shiver under his enormous power and dark demeaner.

“You are correct,” Dumbledore nodded his head in a show of submission, even though he strongly believed he was wrong. “How about you take a seat so we may sort this out, yes?”

Harry carefully looked at the old coot, scrutinising every move and breath the other made. Not knowing if he should trust him enough yet, he decided to give in partially by stepping passed the wand still aimed at him and coming to stand behind the two chairs in front of the wooden desk. He smiled darkly at the other in defiance as he continued to stand. Finding satisfaction in the uncontrollable twitch that adorned the Headmaster’s face. Oh, how fun this was going to be for Harry Potter. It would make all his anxiety disappear to know the other was struggling by his ominous presences.


End file.
